


A Running Start

by BookishTea



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Awkward Sexual Situations, Background Relationships, Body Image, Boys Kissing, Drama & Romance, Eating Disorders, Heavy Petting, Homophobia, Homosexuality, M/M, Running, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Destruction, Sexual Confusion, Sloppy Makeouts, Slurs, Sports, Swearing, Unresolved Sexual Tension, black mail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-03 10:12:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 35,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5286794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookishTea/pseuds/BookishTea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyle unwillingly joins his high school's track team. Why? Because for whatever reason, Eric Cartman is determined to release some nasty secrets if he doesn't.<br/>*Inspired by: Silence Isn't Required</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome Our Players

As that day drew to a close, orange and yellows ushered the sky into a curtain fall. The other citizens of South Park were unaware, but to Kyle, the show had just begun.

This story started with a bell being rung, initially innocent. And a teenager rose to answer it, too old to be a boy, but too young to be considered a man.

With a sigh, Kyle unlocked the front door to his home, and swung the wood open.

"What could you possibly want?" he snapped. After school hours were meant to be relaxing, time reserved to his own comfort and pleasures. He only wanted to eat some leftovers from last night's supper while he watched tv, peel off his clothes, and climb into his bed. Simple.

Eric smiled in return, body outlined by the glow of the afternoon. Unlike Kyle, Eric had managed to change from the dirty clothing he wore today, and into something fresh. From the space that separated them, something that could have been easily closed in two steps, Kyle caught a whiff of the brunette's scent. It was a mixture of the intense mint gum he seemingly always chewed, and the laundry detergent his mother used on their wardrobe. Peaches and brown sugar. Somehow it fit with the summer's unwavering heat, enough to make Kyle believe he lived further south than he actually did.

"Why Kyle, can't I visit a long time friend?"

The named teenager didn't have to think, and the door ended their short conversation as it abruptly shut into place.

And just as swiftly, the doorbell was held down until it squealed for an ungodly moment. Kyle wished Cartman would just give up, and finally leave him to his peace and quiet. But today, the brunette was as stubborn as a mule and wouldn't back down. And both already knew that Kyle had misplaced the charger for his phone, so he couldn't drown out the sound with his music.

With a bitter taste in his mouth, Kyle unsealed the door.

Eric's smirking face was there to greet him, plucking all the right strings to have Kyle's body humming with annoyance.

"Don't you have something better to do?"

Eric shook a finger at him, "It's my turn to ask a question." The brunette paused, as if considering his own words. "More like a demand." he admitted with a coy smile.

Settling with humoring the teenager before him, Kyle ran a hand through his hair, "Oh? And what would that be?"

Cartman's smile grew, like a beloved pet had done an action deemed cute. "I want you to join the track team at our school."

"And why would I _ever_ do that?"

The taller of the two stepped forward, making the now sudden closeness personal in a way. "If you don't..." he whispered, "I'll tell your mother that you haven't been going on those dates she's arranged, and instead you've been running around in the woods."

"You wouldn't" Kyle hissed, making the short distance between the pair shorter.

"Oh I would, and I have the evidence to prove it...Unless you join the track team."

Kyle threw his hands up, "Why do you want me to join some fucking team!?"

Cartman shrugged, "You'll have to find out." He gave one last smile, sending a shiver down the other's spine. "See you tomorrow, 4:00 pm! And don't be late!" he shouted over his shoulder, whistling as he walked off the redhead's porch and down the street.

As far as Kyle saw the matter, he had no choice. He didn't really feel hungry after the incident, and headed right to bed. Only sleep was chased away by some inescapable tension. When he finally managed to shut his eyes long enough to slip into slumber, it was filled with a nightmare.

Kyle ran down an endless forest path, and behind him was a monster. A deformed creature made up of the girls his mother paraded in front of him, each stretched and marred in some sickening way. Every step he made brought him closer to the abomination, and their shrill voices that screamed his name.

He didn't get much sleep that night.


	2. Ballet On Eggshells

The morning after a plan was created. It was rather simple in nature, hitch a ride with Stan to their school and rush to class. No detours or stopping to talk to friends.

But to his gloomy dismay, Stan had to metaphorically run over his ideas. Instead of giving his childhood best friend a ride to their shared school, Stan favoured taking Wendy in his used car.

Which Kyle would have been fine with every other day, but for this one particular date he didn't want to be anywhere near Eric.

Air still hot from last night, Kyle yanked on the side of his buttoned up shirt's collar. The heat was having the thin garment stick to his skin, and coupled with the mass of curls on his head, it wasn't a pleasant feeling. As he waited for the public bus, Kyle flipped to the next page of his book. He still hadn't found his charger yet, and his phone remained dead on his nightstand.

"I can't understand how you're still wearing that."

He tried his best to ignore the irritating sound of Eric Cartman's voice, but the twitch of an eye spoke that he had heard what was said.

The corner of his well known hat was pulled, reminding Kyle that he'd need to buy a larger one again. Still, he remained quiet, with his eyes fixated on his current page. But every time he tried to read a sentence, somehow he found himself going over the same exact line.

It was gone. Finally Kyle's eyes snapped up, glaring at the boy beside him with his book. Making sure he was safe from the redhead's arms, Eric turned it around to see its cover, careful to mark the page with a thick finger.

"Hm, didn't think you'd enjoy Oscar Wilde's works. And certainly not, _The Picture Of Dorian Gray_. But now it all makes sense!"

Kyle ripped the article from the other's hands, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Eric shook his head in disdain, "Oh don't be that oblivious, it'll take the fun out of everything."

A metal beast pawed its way down the road, rolling to a lavish stop. It filled any silence with its loud and crooked rumbling, until a groaning overtook that. The bus doors peeled open, offering a bit of shade from the sun.

Climbing into it proved otherwise, the interior was humid and the leather seats immediately stuck to any flesh it could find.

Scanning his bus pass, Kyle strolled over to the middle section, selecting a place near a window. But like the sizzling sidewalk outside, Kyle seethed as a familiar large form sat next to him. Determined to remain cool, even if sweat was pouring off of him, Kyle calmly flipped through his book. But a weight was pressed against his knee, and despite what he promised himself, Kyle couldn't help but sneak a peek.

And sure enough it was Eric's own knee, heavy and radiating like a furnace on the sun. Steeling his nerves further, Kyle spared a glance to the other's face. It was fixed ahead, with headphones that softly vibrated from the music dancing in the brunette's ears.

Kyle turned back to his book.

* * *

 

He praised every deity he could think of, even if he didn't believe in anything other than a single God. On a side note he also thanked the air conditioners in his school, currently keeping the building cold.

The metal of his locker was also chilly to the touch, something Kyle vaguely noticed as he popped its door open. Just as his fingertips brushed against his chemistry textbook, a lazy drawl greeted him.

"Sorry about earlier."

Kyle shrugged, "Not a big deal." Holding the textbook in his spare arm, Kyle grabbed the massive tome dedicated to calculus. Pulling it from the built in shelf, Kyle grunted from its sheer weight. Stan winced with sympathy.

"Can I make up for it? I know the public transit is shitty. How about after school I drive us down to the beach? Let us cool down a bit."

Kyle shook his head as his best friend wiggled his eyebrows, remembering the deal he had regrettably made.

"Can't, I already have plans."

"Oh. Well at least say it's with a hot chick!"

Snorting with laughter, Kyle grinned at the thought of Cartman dressed up as a girl. But with a start at their childhood, maybe Cartman would actually like the thought of wearing a dress and some shocking shade of pink or red lipstick.

"Nah, gotta do some stuff I'm not looking forward to."

The bell for class screeched into the halls, making everyone jump in panic. Stan was quickly swept up in a wave of rushing students, "Tell me later!"

"Okay!" Kyle shouted back, holding a firm grip on the edge of his locker as people pushed past. It was quickly shut, lock snapped in place, and Kyle begrudgingly headed to his first class of the day. Calculus.

As he maneuvered down the twisting halls, a hand caught the edge of his shirt, pulling him a step or two back.

"Don't forget, 4:00 pm." A voice whispered into his ear, and he was let go. Stumbling, Kyle cursed under his breath. He craned his head over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of Eric lumbering off in the opposite direction.

"Fucking lovely." He mumbled under his breath.

"Broflovski, language!" an unknown teacher bellowed. Automatically he spewed out an apology before he jogged to the last door down the hallway.

 


	3. Lifting Dirt

 

_Afterwards_

Kyle pulled on the edge of his high school issued gym shorts, increasing the length to hide the bruises on his legs.

And with a deep breath he pushed the door separating him and the fields on the school campus. Taking in the scent of freshly mowed grass, and the lingering residue of sweat from previous students, Kyle walked past a series of outside bleachers, reserved for the teams either practicing or having a game against a rival school.

He dropped the backpack strapped to one of his shoulders onto the grass when he spotted Eric. The tall hefty brunette stood by the side of the rubber track, appearing a strange sight in his gym clothes. The lack of wear was obvious, and had none of the grass and sweat stains Kyle's had.

Kyle wondered how he managed to escape participating in phys-ed and why he'd want to do it now of all times, and with Kyle. Before he could voice this, Eric was already jogging up to him, a grin pressed onto his chubby face.

"Great, you made it! Did you get signed up yet?"

Kyle shrugged, "I got the forms in my bag, but I have to get them signed by my parents before I can hand it in."

Eric gave out a loud scoff, shaking his head, "That's fucking weak, man."

"Whatever, the office won't accept it if I'm under eighteen." He peered over Eric's shoulder, "that's where we're running?"

The younger of the two followed the shift in gaze, blinking for a second as if he'd just remembered why they were here.

"Yeah, I wanted to follow the dirt trail that wounds around the property but it's taped off for a moment. Apparently a couple of trees fell down or something. Anyway, let's start."

Reluctantly Kyle followed Eric onto the track, stopping to stretch out his body. Extending his hands out in front of him, a large crack was heard. Kyle sighed at the feeling before he moved onto reaching to his toes, welcoming the burn as his fingertips barely brushed against the points of his sneakers.

"What the fuck are doing?"

Kyle peered up through a wave of fiery curls, body still hunched over. "What?"

" _That._ " Eric stressed, waving a hand at the other's form.

"What, stretching?"

"Yeah, this ain't yoga. It's just running, simple."

Kyle released his pose, straightening himself out once again. "No it isn't so simple. You're an idiot if you think that stretching isn't important. You need to do it, because it reduces the risk of injury, not to mention it can relax your body. Did you seriously not do any research about this?"

"I watched some videos of people running...for about five minutes."

Kyle groaned, rubbing at his face in annoyance. "For fucks sake, why am I in this ridiculous situation? Look, I'll explain a couple of things to you so listen for once. There's some golden rules you have to learn before you run: always stretch before, eat healthy things like fruits and vegetables, bring lots of water, and-"

"Boring!" Eric sung, swinging his arms back and forth as he impatiently waited for Kyle to finish up with his nagging.

"Shut the hell up! You dragged me into this, so you might as well listen!"

Thankfully Eric kept quiet after this, but couldn't help the grin that graced his face.

" _Right_...And you can't immediately start running, you gotta start by warming up, either walking or jogging. I'd start with the former if I were you."

"Fuck no, I'm not some pussy. This is the _running team_ , remember?"

Huffing, Kyle called out over his shoulder as he began to lightly jog away, "Whatever. Don't listen to me, I don't care if you get hurt, fatass."

Ignoring the slurs that were directed at him, slowly Kyle eased up from a lazy pace to a full fledged run. The wind buzzed in his ears, matching the racing beat of his heart as his shoes slapped against the rubber ground.

He felt free doing this, like no strings or expectations were attached to him. No teacher, parent, or Eric could hope to touch him now. He made a full loop around the track before he passed Eric, who was gasping for air as he gave a pitiful attempt, and settled on his second lap while the other was still on his first.

Darting by, he called out to Eric, "Don't hurt yourself." Uncaring if the jab had barb wire attached; after-all this was all the brunette's fault, and he was the reason why this was a waste of time.

Time flew by quickly as Kyle circled the track, again and again. It was on Kyle's sixth round that a voice called out, an unmistakable cheery disposition tied to it.

"Golly, what are you two doing?" Butters inquired, smiling shyly as he rubbed his hands together in a modest way.

Kyle couldn't help but keep an ear open as Eric dragged himself over to the blonde, and began a disgruntled conversation.

"G-getting ripped, what else does it look like? Got any water?" Eric grunted, wiping the sweat that dripped from his brow and down to his red cheeks.

"Sounds like fun. And I sure do, buddy!" Butters fumbled with his backpack, unzipping it to pull out a water bottle. Eric quickly snatched it up, unscrewing the lid and gulping down the liquid inside like a man dying of thirst.

"Gee, it's lucky that I always save an extra bottle for dance class."

As Kyle slowed down to a comfortable jog, he caught sight of Butters patting the side of Eric's shoulder. He grimaced at the gesture, and favoured ignoring them instead.

Throughout the years everyone had noticed a grow in Butters' backbone, even to the point where he sometimes talked back to his domineering parents. And like everyone else had, Butters had been expected to move on from Eric and leave him friendless. The brunette was bad news, so naturally he was avoided and left to his lonesome. But no one had expected Butters to still hang off of him, like a little puppy.

It made no sense, and to Kyle, it made him feel like he missed a side to Eric that only Butters got to see. And they only got closer every day.

"Hey, why don't you join the team?"

That made Kyle come to a crashing halt, short of air as he stumbled to his backpack.

"Really?!"

"Why not, we just can't have two members." Eric twisted the used water bottle like a plastic pretzel before he tossed it over his shoulder, ignoring the fact he had just littered.

"Gee, thanks! You're the best, Cartman!" Roses bloomed on Butters' excited face, and without a thought he brought Eric into a hug.

Kyle paused, hand on his backpack's zipper, unable to look away from the sight.

"C'mon Butters, don't be so gay." Eric chastised, but still gave a few equals pats on the other's back. But when Butters still held on a second later, snuggled into Eric's side, finally the brunette shoved the petite boy away.

"Sorry!" Butters giggled after regaining his balance, "You're just so soft, I couldn't help myself!"

That was all that Kyle needed to hear, and after shrugging into his bag's straps, he snuck off before either of them could see his departure. The sweat on his spine made his shirt glue to his body, and he shivered at the feeling.

* * *

Later that night he dreamt that the roles were reversed, and he had been the one to hug Eric. And Butters was right, after years of an unhealthy diet and a lifestyle lacking exercise, Eric was soft like a marshmallow.

Kyle dug himself deeper into Eric's tender body, smelling the delicious scent of peaches and brown sugar. The brunette felt like a big secure blanket, tangling him in an intimate cocoon. He moaned as he was brought even closer, unable to contain himself from the warm and safe sensation the other gave. Large but gentle hands patted him on his back, reassuring and perhaps even compassionate. Kyle never wanted to leave...

His eyes snapped open, confused by the faded glow-in-the-dark star stickers plastered on his ceiling. After a few seconds he groaned, tossing a stray pillow he had been clinging to in his sleep across the room. Watching as it hit a wall and disappear into the darkness. He slightly turned his head to his radio clock on his nightstand, blinking red numbers reading as, 1: 23 am.

As Kyle yawned against the fog still lurking in the corners of his mind, he finally noticed it. On the lower half of his body there was a considerable tent.

"Oh my fucking god..." he whispered, shocked and disgusted by this sudden revelation. Quickly he ripped his blankets off of him, and after making sure the rest of the house remained asleep, Kyle tip toed into the bathroom and stripped off his pajamas.

Sluggish from recently awaking, Kyle twisted the cold water knob on for the shower and jumped in. Immediately his body broke out into a shivering fit, but he didn't care.

It was harsh enough to erase his previous arousal.

"There's no way..." he whispered, even if the shower-head drowned out the sound with running water. "No way I could get an erection from dreaming about Cartman. He's a racist, sexist, bigot. I-it's not possible, it just isn't..."


	4. Have Some Tasty Balls In Your Soup

Kyle pulled his Star Wars t-shirt over his head, yelling, "Coming!" as he stomped his way down the stairs and to the front door. He swung it open, automatically grinning at the sight of Stan.

"Hey, want a lift?"

"Sure, but what about Wendy?"

Stan crinkled his nose, "She hitched a ride with Bebe to prepare something for the student council. Anyway, are you ready?"

"Yeah." Kyle unhooked his bag from the coat rack, swinging it on as he made his way out, and shut the door behind him.

They walked to Stan's car, silent as they both climbed in. Inside Kyle could smell the faintness of Wendy's perfume on the leather seats, bought from a pharmacy and smelt of wild flowers and berries. To Kyle the scent was overpowering and made him sick to his stomach, but apparently Stan liked it. Kyle wasn't sure if he actually did, or he said that because Wendy specifically wore it.

Either way, he rolled down his window a tiny bit. Stan didn't make a comment on that, even though he noticed. The car pulled out onto the road, and as they headed towards school, they passed by the bus stop.

The silhouette of Eric wandered over to it, focused on staring at the street disappearing under his feet. Kyle pressed his face against the cool surface of his window, tending to the flush that was cast on his cheeks. He still couldn't believe he had that dream, what the fuck was wrong with him? He wasn't...couldn't be gay...

"Hey, dude...are you okay?"

Kyle hummed, not removing his face from the window.

"I don't want to sound like a jerk, but you look kinda bad."

Finally he moved away, "I didn't get much sleep last night" he admitted with a sullen expression.

Stan glanced at him, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, "That sucks. Does it have anything to do with before?"

"Before?"

"Yeah, you said you had to do something you didn't want to do? I thought that was maybe apart of it."

"Kinda. So how did last night go?" Quickly Kyle changed the subject, not wanting to reminiscence about Eric or how he'd been blackmailed into joining a track team of all things.

Thankfully Stan didn't remark on the switch, and had brightened up at the prospect of talking about their relationship.

"Good, I didn't puke yesterday, which is always good. Somehow I got the topic in something I actually like and know much about, whales! Next thing I know, we're talking about how horrible whaling is, and Wendy said I was sensitive. Held my hand and everything!"

"Congratulations, you're even closer to marriage."

"You think?"

Kyle stared at his best friend, "Stan, we're in high school. Much too young to be think about marriage."

"I know," Stan said with a sheepish smile, "but I just feel like she's the one. You know?"

Kyle shook his head, "No I don't know, remember? That's why my mother keeps putting me on dates with girls I know nothing about."

"C'mon, you must know something about them?"

"I know they're Jewish, and as my mother likes to say, then they must be nice. Otherwise, nothing. Just once it'd like to manage my own life."

"That's tough, man, but I know it'll work out. It always does for you." Stan pulled up to the school, dodging cars and after twenty minutes, found a reasonable parking spot.

"I hope it does."

* * *

Kyle had no classes with any of his friends, or at least his close knit group. In the exception of one he shared with Kenny, English literature. He had tried to catch his eye throughout their study period, but Kenny was much too absorbed with texting to notice.

And so he had to wait until lunch time to really talk to anyone. Like always he brought his own kosher lunch, so he didn't have to wait in line and instead found a seat at one of the tables.

He had begun to open up his bag, when a shadow passed over his table. He glanced, speechless as Eric walked past him and to a table on the other end. Usually Eric sat with Kyle, Stan, Kenny, and whoever filled the rest of the space, but for some reason he wandered over to a table occupied by no one else but Tweek.

Kyle prepared to voice any complaint he saw fit, when Tweek only gave a surprised jolt and then welcomed the other to sit across from him.

"Hey, Kyle!"

"Butters." Kyle mumbled, then perked with realization. Butters was close to Eric, maybe he'd know more about what he was planning. "Butters, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." the blonde agreed, unwrapping the layers of plastic wrap around his sandwich.

"What's with _that?_ " he gestured with his spoon, opening his thermos of Matzah ball soup.

"What's what?" he followed the line and finally landed on Eric and Tweek talking, and more importantly, Eric sliding a red packet over to Tweek, something that had no visible label.

"Oh, _that_."

"Yeah, so, what's going on with them?"

"Nothing important, besides Cartman giving Tweek a gift." Butters said around the bit of sandwich in his mouth.

"But Cartman never gives gifts. Never."

Butters frowned, "I heard its because Tweek did something for him, like, helped him out."

"What, like with a prank?" Kyle scooped a large piece of carrot into his mouth, munching on it as he watched the gears in Butters' head spin.

"Nah, nothing like that. More advice really."

Tweek and Eric's table began to flourish, attracting others to sit at it. Soon Craig, Token, and Clyde were joining them. They appeared a bit skeptical at Eric's appearance, but were sated by the dismissive wave from Tweek, who tried his hardest to settle everyone with a smile. However it came out very stressed and painful.

"What advice could that fatass want?"

Butters froze, obviously now uncomfortable as something passed through his thoughts. Just as Kyle was going to make a comment on it, Butters rose to his feet.

"No offense, Kyle, but I gotta stay clear of this negative energy. It's going to throw off my dancing." He collected his sandwich and bag, offering a nod before he left.

"What the.."

Stan sat beside him, saying hello to Butters as he hurried out of the cafeteria.

"What's eating him?"

Kyle shook his head, "I'm not sure."

Shoveling another spoonful of soup into his mouth, Kyle watched as Eric finally rose up and wandered off. As he once again passed by, this time their eyes met. Those coffee hues closed in a sultry wink, which had Kyle blank besides a customary middle finger.

When the brunette had exited the room, Kyle turned back to his best friend, who was chatting with a recently seated Kenny.

"Watch my lunch for a sec'?"

"Hm?" Stan glanced away from a scavenging Kenny, who was enjoying stealing some fries from the other's plate. "Oh, yeah. Don't worry I will."

"Thanks." Kyle mumbled, sliding from the table and strolling over to Tweek's.

"What do you want?" Craig snapped, annoyed that someone else would interrupt his and Tweek's interesting chat about guinea pig astronauts.

"I need to ask a question, is that _alright_ with you?"

Flushing with embarrassment and contempt at that question, especially when it got howls of laughter, Craig looked the other way.

Kyle sat in what was remaining of Eric's former seat, "Hey, Tweek."

"Gah! H-hey, Kyle. Wha-what do you want?"

As if to protect himself from the unknown, Tweek brought his coffee cup closer to his person. The dark liquid inside sloshed along the brim at the movement, and Craig tossed him some more napkins to clean it up.

"Just a question. I was wondering what Cartman gave you, do you mind if I ask?"

The twitchy teenager shook his head, trembling as he moved the packet from its hiding place, his lap, and put it onto the table.

Kyle kept his hands to himself, content to just stare at it from his seat. "What is it?"

"It's, ark! C-coffee! Cartman got it for me, and the expensive kind too!"

Kyle frowned, tilting his head, "Why?"

"It's personal. Y-you gotta ask him for more information! Otherwise, h-he'll be mad at me!" With that thought, Tweek clutched the side of his messy hair, shivering with the possibility and the stress that came with it.

Kyle held his hands out in front him, "Don't worry, I'll do just that. Thanks for answering my questions." He climbed out of the seat, and headed back, all too aware of the glare Craig sent him.

He was unnoticed when he returned, and dug straight into his soup, but it had gotten cold in the meantime. This was all becoming a big puzzle, and no matter what, Kyle was determined to solve it.

The first thing was to confront Eric, he didn't want another plan of the brunette's to blow out of proportion and harm anyone.


	5. What's Behind Door Number 3?

He ignored the texts Stan kept sending him, questions about his new-found interest in Cartman. It was hard to explain, even to himself. Seemingly, as the years had grown in number, Kyle could almost "sense" that something was up with the brunette. A sensation twisted his gut, wrenching it in every thinkable way.

But the involvement of Tweek was unexpected, a pawn that Cartman hadn't used for a long time.

At that reminder, Kyle hurried his pace, trying to forget the heavy textbooks in his bag that bit at the tender side of his body whenever he moved.

Usually he would have been glad to hitch another ride with Stan, but the allure of wedging himself further into this puzzle and its answer was too much for him.

"Cartman!" he called, voice ringing out until it was caught in the other's ears.

The hefty form of Eric spun around, raising a perplexed brow at the sight of his friend/enemy.

"What?!" he hollered back.

Kyle jogged up to him, frowning when he was by Eric's side.

"I'm walking home with you."

When he didn't receive a reply, Kyle glanced up to his face. But the other's expression was guarded into a blank polish, fixated on the street before them.

Kyle chewed on the inside of his cheek, "Is that okay with you...?"

His arch-rival shrugged his broad shoulders, as if he was pondering the best response to sate Kyle.

"Sure, don't know why, but it's a free sidewalk."

Huffing, Kyle looked away from him, "Maybe I just want to walk with a friend."

A deep laugh drifted into the hot air, rich with a bitter brew of laughter. It was enough that Kyle missed a step and stumbled for a few seconds, when he managed to get a hold of himself, he sent a nasty glare to his companion.

"We're not friends, you hate my guts." Eric rumbled, cutting off his giggles with a smile like broken glass. He caught Kyle's from the corner of a coffee brown eye, heady as it cemented their staring contest. "I'm not an idiot Kyle, you're here to stick your big Jew nose in my business."

The shorter teenager beside him bristled with both the implication and insults, "No I'm not."

Eric continued to stare at Kyle, squeezing a sense of honesty to his breast. He quickly glanced to his feet, making sure he wasn't going to trip over a crack again, before he switched back. "I'm sticking my nose in Tweek's business, I--"

"Lame!" Eric sung, grinning cheekily as if he'd proven a point in making Kyle act like a fool.

"Will you shut up!" Kyle said as he pushed him, "I don't want someone like you corrupting Tweek!"

"Funny," Eric snorted, "you sound just like your boyfriend. 'Stay away from him, Cartman. I'm a massive douche-bag, blah blah.'"

"He's _not_ my boyfriend."

"You could have fooled me, you two certainly hang off each other like you're starring in the Titanic. You'd be Rose, and he'd be Jack." Quickly Eric stepped back to dodge a fist thrown in his direction, the action seemed to make him laugh even more.

Kyle seethed from his spot, fist still raised as he flushed scarlet from the thought.

At this presented sight, Eric simply couldn't help himself. At this moment, the best action was to goad Kyle further until he went mad with rage, causing him to forget their conversation and hopefully about Tweek's connection to it.

"Or what, you'd prefer if I was Jack?" he purred with a saucy wink.

Kyle froze with shock, and unbeknownst to him, his dream from last night entered his mind. Specially the way that Cartman held him, and the sudden remembrance had him itching with interest.

Usually that would send Kyle into another fit, but this time the pause had Eric nervous. He glanced away for a second, eyeing his house further ahead of them, sanctuary. He licked at his lips, erasing the chapped and cracked feeling until it was sleek and moist with his saliva.

Kyle gulped at the darting appearance of Eric's tongue, and a sensation of drifting came over him, like he wasn't fully there.

"...Kyle?" Eric whispered, unsure of this new and strange tension. He wasn't sure what he expected from this moment, but he surely liked it, and that terrified him.

When the daywalker said nothing, Eric mumbled a line about having to do homework, which let's be honest, he'd never do. He jogged the remaining distance, like something was snapping at his heels and wanted him back by Kyle's side.

The sound of Eric's door slamming shut caused Kyle to snap out of his weird trance, with only the heavy feeling of a blush on his cheeks to say it had happened at all.

"What the fuck was that?" he muttered to himself, and after shaking his head, he made his way home. Hoping that whatever went on between them, stayed on that sidewalk and didn't follow Kyle home.

* * *

"Weirdo." Eric said lowly to himself, back still pressed against the wood of his front door.

A flowery voice drifted to greet him, coming from the kitchen, "Is that you hon'? Do you want a snack?"

"No mom, I'm not hungry!" Eric yelled back, but the idea of that was strange. Eric was always hungry, or perhaps hungry to fill something within himself. With a confused expression, Eric pressed a large hand to his stomach, as if it'd somehow explain itself. Of course it did no such thing, and so he trudged up the staircase that led to his room.

As soon as he pushed his way in, his backpack was flung to the side, hitting a wall with a massive thud.

"Hon', are you okay?" his mother called from below, like a voice muffled by water.

"I'm fine!" he bellowed, and immediately set to work. He settled himself in the chair by his computer, which buzzed with a new message. He clicked on it, avoiding ads until he found the stupid thing.

**CoffeeLover: i talked to Kyle today. Hhhe was asking a couple questions about you.**

Eric rolled his eyes, of course Kyle was.

**SuckMyBalls: i figured, he's a Jew like that. u didn't say anything??**

**CoffeeLover: no.**

**SuckMyBalls: thxs. how's the coffee?**

Cartman waited a few seconds for Tweek to control himself on the other side of the screen, no doubt he'd be too excited or nervous to type for a minute or two. And sure enough, Cartman's pause paid off.

**CoffeeLover: it's amazing. But you didn't need to get me assdsthing.**

**CoffeeLover: gah! Fuck. *anything**

**SuckMyBalls: it's fine, not many people would do that for me. just please don't let Kyle hear about it.**

**CoffeeLover: i understand. My door is always open, you know?**

**SuckMyBalls: yeah, i gotcha.**

**CoffeeLover: good. I g2g, i have homework to do.**

Cartman yawned, not bothering to say goodbye as he exited out of the program. Sure the pair had gotten closer in these last few days, but not enough to spew all of his secrets and insecurities to the twitchy blonde. He couldn't even tell his mother about it.

"Hon', dinner is ready!"

"'Kay, I'm coming down, mom!"

* * *

Tweek pushed himself back from his screen, a frown stuck to his features. Unconsciously a trembling hand sought the comfort of a freshly made cup of coffee, a blend gifted by Cartman.

He wasn't sure what to do, or at least to prove he could be considered an ally. Someone to trust, and Cartman was certainly not an individual to dish that out easily. Especially when he had shown a vulnerable side that Tweek was sure that few if not none knew about, and how Tweek had learned of it by mere chance...

_A couple days earlier into the week, Tweek had been scavenging his pens off of the school's floor, as he had dropped his pencil case in another one of his fits. But every time he tried to scoop them up, a sudden jolt caused the small objects to slip through his hands. It became such an event, that when Tweek finally rose his head from his crouched stance, he found the hallways empty._

_Determined to not stay much longer in the eerie building, Tweek locked up the remainder of his things, and headed his way to the exit. As he past the bathrooms, a strange sound fluttered through the air._

_He initially thought he had conjured it up, most likely because of a lack of caffeine in his system. But to his astonishment the same sound beckoned him, coming from the boys' bathroom to be exact._

_Yanking his shirt's sleeve so it covered his hand, the potential germs were a frightening thought, Tweek pushed open the dirty door open enough so he could stick his head into the room._

_"Ark! H-hello?" he whispered softly, body giving a large spasm with a nervous edge. Nothing replied, only that sound from before._

_With a deep breath, partially to forgo his better judgement, Tweek stepped inside the room, and made sure the door fell mute behind him._

_There wasn't many stalls, and it became apparent that the questionable sound came from a middle one._

_Quiet as a mouse, Tweek tip-toed up to it, every half second his body seized itself in an anxious twitch. And yet he did his best to ignore it, leaving only his thundering heart to block out everything else as he swung open the stall_ door.

* * *

"I'm home!" Kyle announced, already swinging his backpack from his shoulders and onto the ground.

"How was your day?" his mother asked, offered a bright smile as she patted the edges of her clothes, freeing any dust that clung to it. She had overseen the dusting that day, and her hard work left the house to sparkle like a prized jewel.

"Good, but I have a form for you to sign."

"Oh? Is it for a field trip?"

Kyle shook his head, leaning down to unzip his bag and rummage through it to find the slip of paper, as he searched he began to explain.

"No, it's from our track team. I need you to sign it so I can join." Finally clasped in his hands, he twisted his figure around to hand it to his mother.

Grasping it, she drew it close, eyes lightly skimming over the text with a frown. Kyle knew that look, something that spoke of a lesson being told, or his ideas being questioned.

"Kyle," she started after finishing, "are you sure this is a well thought through idea? This club could take away from your studies. I'm not sure I want your grades to slip up because of this."

Particularly Kyle could care less about the team, but the con to not joining meant defeat. And as much as he hated to admit it, Cartman had him in a powerful grip. Either he joined and was forced to work alongside Cartman of all things, or if he didn't, the brunette would tell his mother of Kyle avoiding his responsibilities. Thankfully the girls he'd been set up with had no interest in dating either, so both told their parents they went off on a "date", while in reality they had been hanging out with their friends the whole time.

Kyle had so far been lucky, and because of this, reckless. He should have known to be more secretive, and because of his folly, Cartman had a tight hold around his neck.

This, and only this, had Kyle arguing with his mother over the team. It'd be much easier to fight with her than his father, so quickly he tried to earn her favour before his father arrived home from work.

"But, mom, places like Harvard are big when it comes to sports! Not only do they appreciate law types, but they're suckers for people with club filled resumes."

Pleased with the thought of not only her son becoming a lawyer, but a Harvard graduate, quickly Sheila relented.

"Alright, find me a pen."

Just as Kyle fished one from his bag and presented it to her, she rose a hand in warning. "But I won't have your grades affected by this, do you understand me? Otherwise you'll be taken out before you can say Moses, alright?"

Kyle couldn't nod fast enough, and perfectly matched the description of a bobble head, "Crystal clear."


	6. Fine Real Estate

The first sensation that reached him was the tickle of his inner nostrils, the new scent of cooking meat heavy in the air. This roused him, more than the calling of his name. Mouth watering at the possibility of breakfast, Eric's eyes slowly opened to stare at the ceiling of his bedroom.

"Sweetheart, time to get up!"

On their own accordance, Eric's dark eyes, an exact shade of sugary coffee rolled. And with only slight regret, he managed to climb his way out of his prison of comfortable but clinging blankets, and make his way downstairs.

The only thing to announce his arrival was the rumbling of his stomach, and the unmistakable sound of bare feet slapping against cool kitchen tiles. His mother stood by the stove, wearing a bright pink and frilly housecoat, while she prodded the bacon cooking with a spatula.

Glancing over her shoulder, Liane smiled brightly at the sight of her son, who blinked weakly in the kitchen's door frame.

"Morning, sweetheart! Did you have a good night's sleep?"

Giving a soft grunt, Eric yawned as he wandered over to the refrigerator, pulling out a plastic container of orange juice. Setting the sweating jug on one of the kitchen counters, next the teen removed a glass cup from a cupboard and began to pour himself a refreshing drink.

"That nice friend of yours called."

Eric paused, removing himself from his juice. "Who?" he breathed.

His mother pursed her lips in thought, the name of the caller had escaped her. But thankfully it didn't take long for the name to pop into her mind, "Richard's boy."

Eric set his glass down with a clatter, flabbergasted with this turn of events.

"Why would Tweek call here?"

Liane shrugged her shoulders, "He mentioned something about papers and stress. Frankly, it was hard to even understand a single word he said."

Sighing, Eric made his way back up to his room, grabbing his cell from his night stand. Thankfully he still had Tweek's number, which he quickly called. It would be a lot simpler to actually listen to what he said instead of waiting for the twitchy blonde to be under enough control to type something on a keyboard.

_Ring...riinngg...rinnngggg-_

"Gak! H-hello?!"

"It's me."

"A-and who are you?"

Eric took in a deep breath, already feeling the onslaught of a headache.

"Satan." he responded sarcastically, eyes rolling with annoyance.

"F-fuck! How'd you get this, gak! Number? Are yo-you calling from he-"

"Tweek, it's Cartman."

"Ah...oh."

Everything was silent for a minute, that is, until Eric decided to continue with the conversation as if it never happened.

"Why did you call?"

"What?! You called m-me!"

"Before, Tweek. _Before_. "

"Oh, f-fuck! Cause Mr. Royale said that the s-stress wouldn't be good for me."

Eric furrowed his brow, staring at his bedroom's wall before he mumbled, "Who?"

"T-the fucking coach! For track! You wanted me to join?"

"Well he's really being a... _royale_ pain in my ass."

Distinctly Eric felt the roles were reversed, no doubt from the groan on the other end of the line.

"Anyway, who cares what some asshole may think. You shouldn't let him walk all over you."

"The d-documents! He took the forms before I could submit them!"

"Motherfucker!"

"Now I can't join! I don't want to go bac-ck to the office to get some more, they'll, fuckk! They'll know I lost it an...and.."

"For heaven's sake." Eric sighed under his breath, and louder this time said, "Look, don't worry your widdle' blonde locks over it. I can handle shit like this, 'kay?"

"A-are you sure, Cartman?"

"Yeah, I got something under my sleeve."

* * *

"I'm sorry, I just can't!" Gently Butters removed the receiver from his ear, Cartman's shouting becoming far too much to handle. Just as the other needed to take a break from swearing to breathe, Butters quickly apologized some more.

"Look, I would love to do something illegal with you, Cartman. I swear! What else are friends for? But breakfast is an important part of the day, and you know how much dancing means to me."

"Fine!" Eric relented, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

"Thanks, buddy! I knew you'd understand."

"Yeah, yeah. Do your fruity dance lessons, I'll just risk my neck. Alone." Ignoring Butters' whining, incredibly similar to a small puppy being kicked, Eric grunted out a goodbye before he hung up.

Great, his back-up plan was a bust. Which left Eric to sneak into the coach's office and steal the documents and exact his own vengeance without any help. _Perfect._

* * *

Glaring through the heavy attention from the sun, Kyle trudged his way up to the school's front doors. He was an hour early before the building opened, so there was an non existent amount of people on the campus.

While Kyle appreciated walking down the halls without worrying about someone standing in his way, or smacking into him, he'd much rather be home. That and the simple fact that he hated the foreboding silence that seemed to linger within this corridor, invisible bony fingers stretching out to grasp him as he went past.

He shivered at the feeling, clutching his hand. The sound of crumpling had him loosening his grip, and glancing towards the documents he held.

They were the whole reason he was here in the first place, the forms to join the track club. At last flourished with the signature of his mother, elegant and fluid.

Grumbling to himself, Kyle continued on until he reached Mr. Royale's office. Eyeing the piece of papers once more, he pushed the heavy door open.

* * *

Eric froze with hands still in the coach's filing cabinet, locked into a staring contest with an equally shocked Kyle. Slowly he withdrew his hand, favouring to lean against the metal husk of the cabinet with a confident grin.

"Nice to see you again, Kyle. What brings you to my chateau?" he gestured to the office with a sweep of the hand.

Finally finding himself able to use his mouth, Kyle's confusion was quickly overtaken with rage.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, eyes darting back to the empty hallway before he stepped inside.

"Nothing much, just waiting to be rescued by a knight in shining armour, and you?"

Kyle shook his head, "I can't believe you. I don't have time for this, stop whatever you're doing and let's get out of here. Hopefully before someone sees us!"

"Not before I finish what I came here for." Eric turned back to the cabinet, continuing to rummage through the contents.

"Cartman!" Kyle snapped, going around the desk to grab a hold of the brunette's shirt, yanking him away. "I'm not getting into trouble for you!"

"No one is asking you too!" Eric barked back, trying to shake Kyle's grip off of him as he searched for Tweek's papers. "Yes!" he shouted as quietly as he could, removing the documents with a triumphant smile.

"Good, now let's go, fatass!"

"Hey! Don't call me-"

A faint whistle broke their argument apart, echoing from the hallway. Eyes widened with panic as they glanced to one another, a single word rung out from the pair.

"Shit..."


	7. Please Don't Notice

Both fumbled for a brief second before they both sprung into action, with Eric lurching toward the cabinet to stuff what had been hidden in his jeans, inside.

Just as he managed to do so, he felt a hand grasp his shirt and drag him out of the room with surprising strength and speed.

On the end of the stretch there was a lone man, casually whistling as he swung a key chain in his hand. As soon as he saw the pair stumbling out of the office, he paused for a second, until he got over his surprise and his eyes suddenly widened.

"Hey! What the hell are you two doing?!" Mr. Royale bellowed, starting towards the teens with a scowl on his face. Not waiting to stick around, Kyle shot down the hallway like a bullet, only weighed by the burden of his friend/enemy's bulk.

Heartbeat pounding in his ears, Kyle made a sharp left turn, shoes slapping the school's flooring with thunderous squelches.

Catching a glimpse of a janitorial closet, Kyle sprinted towards it, shoving Eric inside as soon as his sweating hands managed to work the door open. Ignoring the hissed curses directed at him, Kyle stepped inside and shut the door as quietly as possible behind him.

The dark space was filled with the noisy sounds of panting, and they tried to stifle it with their hands at the eventual frantic footsteps rounding their bend.

Fearful that their shadows would be projected into the hallway, Kyle tried to shuffle backwards.

The closet was small to begin with, causing a panicking day-walker to squish the other teen.

Eric bit his tongue to keep from swearing, the feeling of a body flushed against his own was a sensation he was unused to, warm and human. It was hard to ignore with the inadvertent grounding of ass to his groin, which immediately started to show interest.

_Please don't let Kyle notice, please_ , Eric chanted to any deity listening.

He had thought that everything was in the clear, until Kyle froze. It was hard to see the other, but the shadowy form before him slowly turned around, eyes no doubt searching for his own.

"What the..."

The sound of Kyle's mortified and furious voice seemed too loud, considering the situation. With the sound of Mr. Royale's feet walking down the hallway, calling for them to come out, Cartman tried to plead with Kyle to keep his voice down.

"Ssh, Kyle! You're going to get us caught." The fear and excitement of such, caused his erection to twitch against the plump mass of Kyle's bottom. Which further fuelled the righteous fury in the red haired teen, after finally turning around he hissed out "...are you fucking kidding me? How could I when-"

Alarmed with the rising tone of Kyle's voice, dangerously close to revealing their location, Eric Cartman did the only thing he could think of. Clammy hands grabbed either side of Kyle's face, swiftly bringing it down for a kiss to silence the other's sentences.

Kyle immediately tried to push Eric back, protest fighting against the lips pressed incessantly against his own. Arms unable to get enough room to punch Eric, Kyle bit hard enough on the other's bottom lip to draw blood. Instead of Cartman scrambling back to get away, Kyle was surprised by the moan. Though soft, it stirred back the recurring dreams that had haunted the teen.

He bit that same lip for a second time, startled by the automatic grinding of hips into his own. His eyes slid close at the utterly new sensation, bewildered with how to process and react to it. Heart plummeting down to his gut, his trembling hands found themselves gripping chestnut locks, yanking on clumps as Cartman continued to kiss him.

Like everything else in Cartman's personality, his kisses were harsh and possessive as they fought for some unknown cause. It was a struggle to keep up with; Kyle's tongue burned from the taste of Eric's mouth, mint from either gum or his toothpaste, it had his taste buds tingling.

A low groan pooled deep within his throat, enough to have Cartman bristling. The other's fingernails dug into his flesh, somehow trying to pull him closer.

And that's how they remained, forgetting the teacher stalking the hallways, calling until his voice became hoarse and he ended up admitting defeat.

This one moment turned into minutes, and the small closet became overbearingly hot inside. It was Eric who noticed this, being the first to pull away, though the feat was hard to do. He ignored the mumbled complaint, and how the dark form of his friend reached towards him. Fingers finding themselves swatted away as Eric tilted his head, listening for the sound of Mr. Royale's heavy set walking. There was none.

"He's gone" he whispered, and he had to clear his throat to get rid of the husky tone of it.

"Well..." Kyle started, and with a start, Eric realized his voice was just as scratchy. "Let's leave before someone finds us."

Humming in agreement, Eric blindly sought the doorknob, and within seconds they were groggily stumbling into the hallway.

Cursing under his breath, Kyle glared against the artificial lighting as he watched Cartman fish his cell out of his pocket.

Scrolling through his contacts until he found who he was looking for, he quickly sent a text before he put his cell back where it belonged, and faced Kyle with a smirk.

Kyle rose a brow at the attention, pondering it as he remained unaware of the sent message.

**Butters, i need u to do something for me. like, right now. make a phone call to the police, the school board, i don't care, just call someone. say u found some disturbing photos and drugs in Mr. Royale's office, cry if u have to. K?**

The flush of Kyle's skin, messy appearance, swollen lips, and dilated pupils were a true testament to what had just occurred in that closet. The knowledge had Eric grinning, heart clutching with pride and something akin to affection. He wasn't sure what it was, fuck, he didn't even know why Kyle kissed him back.

Eric opened his mouth, ready to ask when his jeans vibrated from an incoming text. Promptly closing his mouth, he pulled his cell out.

**Im just happy you arent upset with me, Id hate for my best friend to be cross! :)))**

**uh, sure thing.**

**but wouldnt they ask what the photos are? and who I am? I dont think i can do this eric, what if my parents find out i lied to the police? all of this stress isnt good for my dancing…**

Cursing under his breath, Eric quickly replied.

**okay, LISTEN to me, Butters. my ass is on the line right now, so i could really use some help. u didn't go to the school with me, so as i see it. u owe me one. OKAY?**

**now the first thing u have to do is, u have to use a public telephone, but be sure there isn't any stupid cameras or any of that bullshit.**

**sob, or whatever during the call, just don't be too dramatic about it. u say u saw Mr. Royale with some guy in his office, he was "scary" looking. i don't know, tattoos, hoodies, whatever cliche u can think of.**

**the point is, u say Mr. Royale and this guy exchanged money for drugs. it's simple, k? just make sure the whole thing stays ANONYMOUS.**

Eric's finger hovered over the send button, brows knitted together. He hesitated for a heartbeat, then he rapidly added onto the message before he finally submitted it.

**thxs, ur my best friend too.**

"You better not be telling everyone about what happened..."

Eric glanced up from his cell's screen, raising a brow at the tense teen a few feet away.

"I'm not. Why, you want me too?"

Kyle snorted, looking away to the other side of the hallway, "Of course not, I just want to make sure that you understand..." He gestured to the space between them, "..that this isn't some invitation to do something like dating."

Eric's grin widened, "What makes you think I'd even want to do that, Jew?" A stab of insecurity mingled with disappointment and anger. He was powerless to the hurtful words that slithered from his mouth, and he didn't care. He just wanted Kyle to feel just as bad as he did, even from such a small sentence.

He gave a mirthless chuckle as he said, "Why would anyone want to?"

Kyle froze as if he'd been slapped, watching as Eric glanced at the text he'd just received before his eyes flickered back to his own.

"It's been nice, but I've got things to do."

He watched as the other gave him a curt nod before he left, sharp smile still carving his soul like alcohol to a wound. It was hard to process what to do after that, and for the rest of the day he didn't see Eric Cartman. And for the first time in his life, Kyle wasn't sure if he was glad or not over the fact.

 

**< 3**


	8. The Radio We Trust

The final bell rang out, broadcasting the end of the school day. The hallways were filled with bustling teens, each eagerly chatting as they gathered their things and began to leave.

Kyle was amongst them, thankful for it being Friday as he walked out of the building. From the stone steps he could see his best friend heading towards the parking lot, not seeing Wendy with him, Kyle called out "Stan!"

His friend turned around suddenly, expression startled until he saw who was calling for him, "What?!"

Favouring not to have a conversation based on solely shouting across the school grounds, Kyle jogged until he reached his friend, settling into a relaxed air.

"I just wanted to know if I could hitch a ride?"

Stan shrugged his shoulders, "Sure thing."

As they approached Stan's car, Kyle cast a sidelong glance to the other, "And that's okay with Wendy?"

"Hmm. She had to stay after school for some club meeting or something, I honestly don't care."

The pair climbed in after Stan clicked the unlock button from his car remote, each getting into their respective seats as the key was slid in.

Kyle locked his seat-belt into place, eyeing the other teen with a frown as the vehicle roared to life.

"I know it's not my place to ask, but is everything okay between you two?"

It took a minute for Stan to respond, far more comfortable with pretending to fumble with the radio dial until he landed on a random station. Eventually the overpowering sense of Kyle staring at him expectantly became too much, and so he cleared his throat.

"...I don't know, I guess I'm not feeling cherished. I give her rides all the time, to school, the mall, and I even take her to these stupid meetings more than her parents. It's just...I never get a say in anything, and it's wearing me down."

Kyle forced his face to relax, offering a cheerful smile as he said, "Okay, so what _do_ you want?"

"Honestly?"

Kyle nodded, smile slipping into a full fledged grin as he watched the worries disappear from his friend's face as he pondered the question.

"I know I offered it before, but do you mind if we go to the beach?"

"Sure, but only if you're fine with a brief stop along the way."

* * *

Another sigh escaped Eric's lips for the hundredth time that day, usually as his train of thought jumped to what happened in the closet and what that could mean, to generally Kyle.

Cursing, Eric ran a hand through his messy hair. Thoughts of Kyle were becoming far more perverse than usual, and already he had caught himself from masturbating to the image of Kyle pressed against him an unholy amount.

And already the desire to touch was becoming an uncontrollable urge, one he hoped to squash. To do this, he called upon the red haired teen's earlier statement: _You better not be telling everyone about what happened…_

It was funny in a sense that Eric had said the almost exact same line to Tweek, only the situation occurred earlier that same week.

 

_"Ark! H-hello?" Tweek softly whispered, body spasming with a nervous edge. Nothing replied, only that sound from before._

_With a deep breath, partially to forgo his better judgement, Tweek stepped inside the room, and made sure the door fell mute behind him._

_There wasn't many stalls, and it became apparent that the questionable sound came from a middle one._

_Quiet as a mouse, Tweek tip-toed up to it, every half second his body seized itself in an anxious twitch. And yet he did his best to ignore it, leaving only his thundering heart to block out everything else as he swung open the stall door._

_Inside was Eric Cartman, body hunched over the toilet bowl as he retched with such a severity that immediately Tweek thought of calling out for help._

_And yet somehow he didn't, instead he pressed his way inside the small cubicle and offered a shaking hand._

_Eric flinched, gasping at the sudden feeling of a hand against his back. Contents of his belly finally emptied into the toilet, he turned around as much as he could from his position, shuttering breaths leaving him as he faced this unknown person with narrowed eyes._

_"Tweek?" he rasped, confused at the blonde's appearance. He had expected maybe some teacher staying late marking, and certainly not a teenager the same age as himself, much less one he knew._

_"A-are you okay?"_

_Eric grunted, slowly climbing his way back to his feet as he flushed the toilet with an air of indifference._

_Undeterred, Tweek pried even further, asking "I-I don't know, if you're sick maybe I should get a teacher?"_

_Eric's eyes flashed back to his, darkened with annoyance and perhaps even...fear?_

_The thought of Eric facing that emotion was startling, something that Tweek pondered with a mystified frown._

_Eric took a step forward, hissing "You'll do no such thing Tweek, I'm fine, and certainly not sick. Do you want to help me out?"_

_"Yes" Tweek had mumbled, trying to squeeze his way out of the stall and into the open space of the washroom. The smell was condensed there, the scent of bile and shame was inducing the need for Tweek to vomit as well._

_"Just...let's just not talk about this" Eric gestured between their two bodies, "ever."_

_Tweek squirmed in discomfort at the other's steady gaze, constantly assessing every minuscule amount of his reaction._

_"B-but why not? What's there to be..." It finally kicked in, and the epiphany had Tweek gasping as his eyes widened in shock. Swallowing back down the lump in his throat as he focused on Cartman's face, really focused._

_And just as if an old home video had been found in someone's attic or basement, it unravelled behind Tweek's eyelids in the slow movement of blurred frame by childhood frame._

_The constant teasing of Cartman's weight, the insults used with almost religious devotion were all replayed within Tweek's memories._

**Fatass...fatass...fatassssss...FATASSSSS...**

_It was no wonder why Cartman's weight was a touchy subject, one he had taken up to resolving._

_"C-Cartman I had no..." Tweek's words hung in the air, limp as they sagged to the cool tiles underfoot with Eric's lack of response._

_Unable to help it, Tweek's eyes flashed towards the toilet, wondering how long this has been going on for._

_With Eric saying, "Not long enough" Tweek realized he had asked that aloud. His gaze warily slid back to Cartman's face, taking in the details of his furrowed brow and how he blankly stared into something unknown and distant._

_Taking a moment to collect himself, Tweek took a step forward, summoning the complete and utter reserve of the courage he held._

_"Car-Eric, this isn't healthy, and you know it."_

_The use of his first name, though preferred by him, was shocking as it was rare when someone used it other than his mother. Wordlessly he listened as Tweek continued, his chest squeezing painfully as he did so._

_"We might not get along, and our track record isn't great, but...Even with that, I can't stand idle when someone is hurting like this. Please, I need you to get help, even if it's hard..."_

_The rest of Tweek's speech were cut off by sniffling, Eric now unable to contain himself. He hated being in such a weak position, and even worse, crying like a fucking pussy in front of Tweek. And yet he couldn't help it, he'd been carrying his anguish and frustration for too long. The compassionate sound of someone actually giving a shit for him was an emotional event, something that was so completely genuine that Eric couldn't prevent the breathy whimpers that left him._

_Tweek embraced him, rubbing soothing circles along the chubby teen's back with soft cooes._

 

Eric's left hand subconsciously gripped the fabric of the shirt covering his belly until his knuckles became bone white, straining with tension. Even recalling the event had a lump pressed against the back of his throat, and without even really thinking about it, he reached out a hand and picked up his cell from his nightstand.

The motion of scrolling through his contact numbers until he landed on the correct one and dialing, were simply mechanical. Which left his mind blank until a familiar squeaky voice answered on the other end, hesitant as it greeted with a "H-hello?"

"I've decided to take up your offer, is there somewhere we can talk in private?"

* * *

"This is the life, isn't it?"

Kyle hummed under his breath, not really thinking of the rhetoric question as his eyes lingered on the calming image of clouds lazily drifting on a blue canvas.

The afternoon was drenched in shades of orange and dusty pinks, outlining the figures of the two sleepy teens and the crashing waves before them.

They sat upon a grassy hill overlooking a stretch of beach, bodies lying on the ground with their bare feet exposed to the hot sun.

Their stop by a local corner store had been a smart one, satisfied with chilled drinks and sandwiches to quench their thirst and hunger.

Kyle's eyes slid shut, and the feeling of a warm breeze tickling his face and the fresh scent of the spraying water made him smile.

The car was still running, left on that same radio station from before which often switched from the youthful sound of nameless bands to local occurrences in the news. Which was weather updates, the change in gas prices, and the start of garage sales.

This one instance was different, enough to have Kyle's eyes snap open.

_There was quite a commotion at one of South Park's very own high schools, as a staff member was forced from the building in handcuffs..._

Kyle quickly rolled over, making his way onto his feet and hurrying to the opened door of the car. Ignoring Stan's inquiries, Kyle sat on the worn leather as he twisted the volume dial further up, slightly tilting his head as he listened to the rest of the broadcast.

_Though we have yet to receive a name, the teacher was said to be arrested for possession of illegal substances. Which the police thank an anonymous call for. Now for more of the greatest of-_

The sultry sound of the young woman's voice was cut off as Kyle turned the radio off, frowning as he puzzled over this new change in events.

"Stan?"

"Yeah?" Stan replied, eyeing his best friend as he leaned forward from his lounging position by the help of two folded elbows.

"Do you know who got arrested at school? The radio said it was some teacher?"

Stan shrugged, sipping his cherry coke before he bothered answering, "I talked to Token about it, he said it was some gym coach. He saw the whole thing, apparently he found some flyer for a running club in one of the hallways and went to ask about it, but by the time he got there the police were swarming the guy's office."

Kyle paled at Stan's words, and he couldn't help the flash of Eric in his thoughts. The younger teen's face smirking as he gave an amused wink. And unsure why, Kyle's stomach felt unsettled as he shifted his gaze from Stan's dashboard to the picturesque image of the beach waves crashing against the sand and rocks of the landscape.


	9. The Date: Part One

The weekend, a time for rest and collection of one's self. Whether it was Saturday or Sunday, this break could also be used for religious reflection.

Particularly for Kyle, it was the beginning to a hellish experience. Though when he awoke to a cool morning, he expected only carefree promises. It had rained during the night, a melodic sound that soothed irritated nerves and worries of the mind. The nightmares he expected were absent, nothing of Mr. Royale's wrongful arrest surfaced, nor Cartman's words.

It had been in lamest terms, a rather uneventful night. Something Kyle was utterly thankful for, if not, a little confused by. It was only until morning breakfast that perhaps some watchful deity had waited for his digestion of low-sugar content cereal and apple juice to reveal the crippling truth, that Kyle's life had once again been thrown neck deep into an ocean of shit.

"Good morning, bubby!" his mother sung as she entered the room, swooping down to place a kiss onto her eldest child's forehead, leaving behind a red smear from her lipstick.

Letting out a large groan, absently Kyle rubbed at the marked skin, brows furrowed he said, "You're in a happy mood."

His mother took her seat across from him, pouring a large glass of apple juice.

"Who wouldn't be with such a beautiful morning, there's so much you could do! Go for a stroll, walk around the mall, or go bowling..."

Kyle suspiciously eyed his mother, "What's going on, you're never in a good mood after you wake up."

Sheila shrugged, lips slow to stretch to a smile as she said, "It's the weather, must be all the love in the air. The perfect time to settle down-"

The teenager across from her slammed his fist onto the table, shaking the dishware, "I knew it!"

"Now Kyle listen, I have this friend who has a daughter the same age as you. She showed me a picture of her, and I cannot believe a better ma-"

"No mom, you always do this!"

Shelia shook her head, "That isn't true, but I have a real feeling about this one, bubby. Will you at least listen to what I have to say?"

It took a few moments for Kyle to temper his mounting anger, but a nod was Sheila's response.

She took a deep breath in, "If you go on at least two dates with this nice girl, I won't arrange anymore for you."

"You promise...?" Kyle was shocked, that was a huge commitment for his mother to make. It was only when he saw the honest gleam in his mother's eyes as she gave a single nod, that he agreed to these terms.

His mother squealed in excitement, hopping from her seat to scurry to her son's side and embrace him.

"I'm so glad, bubby! I know she'll be wonderful for you, already I can hear those bells ringing!"

Desperately the teen tried to remove himself from the iron clad embrace, but it was of no use. He had to wait until she grew bored of the grip, far more content to tell what she knew of Kyle's soon to be date.

* * *

With the previous rain long since seeped into the ground of the town, it left the streets ashy. As if the landscape had a mere taste of water, which was not enough to quench its thirst.

People like Eric Cartman were dressed for the weather, with as few layers of clothing as possible. And yet, quite like the populace, Eric was dusty from the dirt that seemed to stick to everything.

His plain black t-shirt looked as if he rolled upon the ground, an equal to his jeans. And I know what you're thinking, why on earth would you wear pants in such a heat? Simply put, Eric Cartman was not comfortable in his own skin, no matter how hard he pretended.

When he had run on the track with Kyle, shorts had been a necessity, and already he had been confident that the whole affair would be secretive.

His current plans for the morning would be public, so he chose to don a dark set of jeans, despite how terribly he wished he wore shorts.

From his seat he stifled another groan, leaning further back against the heated leather. The bus wasn't equipped with any air conditioning, the only solace in the transportation was the small portable fan that the driver greedily had perched on his dashboard.

Even then, the machine loudly whirred as it tried to keep with the demand, set to the highest setting it relied heavily on what power its AAA batteries contained.

Trying not to go mad from the unbearable warmth of the sun, Eric thumbed the volume button on the side of his cell.

Immediately everything was blocked out, the sound of violins crying were mixed together with complex crisp guitar riffs and the clatter of drums. A booming masterpiece, something only a throaty crooning could manage.

He let it accompany him, a pleasant distraction as the bus travelled through a twisting stretch of road before it branched onto a curved left. Here Eric studied the storefronts that passed his window before he pulled the yellow cord that hung from the side of the bus, signalling his departure.

Within the span of five minutes, two people walked from the metal steps of the bus to solid concrete. An elderly Asian woman, although Eric would deny it with his last breath, was helped onto the sidewalk by the brunette teenager.

The word she directed towards him was said in a language he couldn't fathom understanding, and despite the barrier between them, Eric understood that she had thanked him and gave a polite smile. While she turned left, he went right, heading towards the sign of a cracked coffee mug.

* * *

A sudden knocking sound cut off Sheila's voice, interrupting all there was to know of Abigail Cohen.

"Oh, that must be her!"

"What?!" Kyle's eyes widened, twisting himself in his chair to glance at the clock hanging above the living room couch before he turned back around. "Mom, it's only 8:56. Why would she be here?!"

Sheila climbed back to her feet, picking up her glass. "I just knew you'd agree, so I called Mrs. Cohen ahead of time and sent her over."

Kyle pushed him cereal bowl away from him, appetite lost as he disbelieving stared at his mother. Words were slow to leave him, heavy as they sunk, "You're kidding me..."

"Don't be like that Kyle," she leaned over the table with a tsk "you'll get frown lines." With the help of two fingers, she smoothed her son's furrowed brow.

He remained wordless as his mother rightened herself and headed over to the front door, swinging it open with a loud exclamation of joy.

"My, how beautiful you look!"

She stepped to the side, smiling as a short girl entered.

"Thank you, Mrs. Broflovski." Abigail mumbled, blush warming her skin into a rosy complexion. Abigail was conventionally pretty, with large butterscotch eyes that were expressive and constantly curious as she took in Kyle's home.

Reluctantly her date rose to his feet and slowly walked over to the pair, trying his best to not grimace. Up close, he was better able to further study the teenager across from him. How her jet black hair was sloppily braided to the side, or how her fingernails had once been painted a shimmering shade of pink, but were long since chipped. But what really grabbed his attention was how she steadily stared into his eyes, not once demurely looking away as he expected. It was how all of the other girls before behaved.

He held out his hand, "My name is Kyle."

Abigail smiled, "I know" yet she still accepted his hand and gave it a firm shake. He cleared his throat, eyes darting to the side where his mother took the hint, leaving the two alone with a satisfied grin.

"I didn't know you were coming so quickly, where do you want to go?"

She shrugged, "How does a walk around town sound?"

Kyle's face brightened with a grin, "Perfect."

The two quickly headed out, with Kyle calling "Don't wait up!" to his mother before he shut the door behind him.

Waiting until the coast was clear, Sheila Broflovski watched as her son headed with his date to the direction of down-town. Whispering to herself, "One down, another to go."


	10. The Date: Part Two

As the heavy oak door was pushed open, the bell rigged to the frame announced Eric's arrival. The very few customers in the coffee house turned around at the sound, after studying their fill of his appearance, they went back to their own respective drinks and conversations.

It was hard for Eric to relax within this atmosphere, it was the perfect hangout for nostalgic hipsters. If boiled down, the concoction would be comprised of thick brimmed glasses, meticulously styled beards, witty t-shirts, and Old Spice.

Eric heavily exhaled, expression hardened with dislike. Thankfully what few customers had shown in the morning were spread far from another, which made things easier for Eric to spot him. Quickly he strolled across the room, pulling out the seat across from Tweek's table without asking.

The other waited until Eric was seated before he spoke, nervous smile speaking far more than his words ever could, "I-I'm glad you made it."

Without any apparent care, Eric crossed his arms and leaned upon them on the table. His eyes skimmed the top of Tweek's messy locks before they fixated on the large window that overlooked the street.

Everyone had used the weekend to sleep in, which accounted for the lazy wandering. The sky had once been a golden hue, and now as time began to pass, it had changed to a pale shade of blue. However there was still a yellow highlight to everything, even Tweek was cast in its luminous glow. His fair skin and blonde hair gave him the impression of being angelic, and the thought had Eric's chest squeezing.

The words that slipped from his mouth tripped over themselves. He didn't expect that to happen, and it was obvious that Tweek was the same way.

"I-I didn't think you'd actually show up, you...you know after everything." To make up for his jumbled speech, he gestured between their two bodies frantically.

Tweek blinked for a second, before realization hit him. Leaning forward, he placed a hand on Cartman's clenched fist. The smile that graced his face was tender with empathy, saying just loudly enough to be heard by Eric, "It's okay, just breathe."

Eric had difficulty swallowing the lump in his throat, slowly trailing his gaze down to the hand on his own. He was startled to see the tightened muscles, and found himself taking heed of Tweek's words.

He withdrew his hand, ignoring the thudding of his heart when Tweek's face became hurt. It took him a few seconds but eventually he cleared his throat, "So why here and not your parent's store?"

It was a while before Tweek responded, attempting to not let the previous action get to him, but failing.

"'Cause it'd be easier for p-people to recognize me there, a..and I thought you'd want to be somewhere uninterrupted."

_That makes sense. The last thing I need is Craig or Tweek's parents pestering us_ , Eric thought with a nod.

Tweek peered around the brunette's broad shoulders. He settled back against his seat, "I-I also wanted to scope this place out for my Mom and Dad, I hope you d-don't mind but I bought us breakfast."

Eric snorted, "Why Tweek, how back-handed of you."

"It's not-It's not like that, fuck!" Tweek protested, soon becoming flustered as Eric began to chuckle at his dismay. He tried to plead his case, but his sentences became more and more incoherent as time went on. Eventually leaving Eric to roll his eyes and set the other teenager at ease once more as a waiter approached their table with their meals and drinks.

* * *

Laughter was constant between the pair, a fact when both realized that they had more in common than they initially knew. Both were the eldest child in their family, they enjoyed similar tv shows, and their mothers tried to control every aspect of their lives.

Kyle couldn't help but laugh even harder as Abigail retold a prank she had pulled on her father, his whole body was shaking from the force of it.

"And then he fell into the toilet and got stuck! Everyone on the street heard about it, and the next thing we know, someone called the fire department! I've never been more embarrassed in my life..."

"W-was he okay afterwards?" Kyle asked in between giggles.

"He was fine, better than my mother. 'Cause when she got home from work, she-"

As Abigail continued on, it became clear that Kyle was focused on nothing else. His previous worries about this girl and their date were forgotten, as were his troubles with a certain brunette. Though this peace was momentary, and far more shorter than they suspected.

* * *

It was Tweek that cut to the chase, setting his mug back down.

"You wanted to...to talk about something?"

Eric cleared his throat, moving his scrambled eggs around with his fork.

"That's right...I need to get something off my chest, or at least get an unbiased opinion." He glanced up, waiting to be sure that Tweek would keep a considerate mind as he spoke. Relief crashed into him, allowing his shoulders to drop when he saw the patient expression on his new friend.

"I've been trying to get in shape, after, well...I took your advice to heart." Eric took in another deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "And I honestly think that's been going well, oh, I got your forms by the way." He reached into his jeans back pocket, removing the folded papers and sliding them across the table.

"Thanks" Tweek mumbled, shoving them into his own as he listened intently, sipping his coffee.

"But the thing is, I've started to like someone, or I think I do but...half the time I'm not even sure they feel the same way."

"D-do they know how you feel?"

Eric shook his head, "Even if they did, they wouldn't be interested in this." He gestured to himself, face tightening.

"C-Cart-" Tweek started but changed his mind " _Eric_ , yo..you don't really believe that do you?"

The teenager in question lifted his head back up, fighting to control his emotions as he said, "It hasn't been any different before. Everyone has commented on my weight, how I'm fat an...and _disgusting_. So why shouldn't I believe that?"

Tweek set his coffee to the side, "Look, you shouldn't change yourself because of some f-fucking assholes!"

Everyone in the coffee house turned around at the commotion, but Tweek didn't care as he spoke from the heart.

"I-I know I haven't been innocent in the teasing, hell, it felt like the only way to get under your skin, but that isn't an excuse. Eric, I'm sorry for being such an idiot, for not realizing that you're just as much of a human as I am."

Forcefully Eric cleared his throat, "I don't blame you Tweek, I've been a bastard to you."

Angrily Tweek shook his head, "B-but this isn't what this is about..." he paused, finally noticing their audience. And enough to make Craig proud, Tweek scowled and gave everyone the middle finger until they sheepishly pretended they weren't listening.

When his attention was brought back to Eric, he sadly smiled as he continued, "I'm not the smartest person around, or the best with words, but I will say this...Anyone who makes you feel like shit about yourself, or is forcing you to adhere to some stupid standard isn't worth it. They don't _deserve_ you."

* * *

"Hey, what's that?"

Kyle looked away from the small plane soaring above the town, a mere flash of metal in the sky. Abigail was pointing towards the sign hanging above a store, a cracked mug.

He shrugged as he walked with her, "I don't know, some new place."

"Do you want to check it out?"

As they came upon the window that stretched across the store, Kyle softly smiled, "I'm not sure if it's good or not."

Ignoring the eye roll directed at him, Kyle cupped his hands around his eyes as he peered inside.

* * *

When Eric sniffled trice, he was caught off guard when Tweek scooped a napkin off of the table top and leaned forward.

He didn't know he was crying, and so he naturally stiffened when Tweek placed a hand on his shoulder to keep balance. Automatically his eyes fluttered to a close as Tweek's breath washed over him, strongly smelling of coffee and jam, as the blonde dabbed at his tears.

Though the intimacy was strange, Eric was just glad that he could trust someone to see him at his rawest form. In his thoughts he cursed himself for not talking to Tweek sooner about his issues, he hadn't known what a difference it would make.

* * *

Kyle frowned when he saw the familiar shape of Cartman, and with Tweek nonetheless. His fears of Cartman using the blonde came back in full swing, and just as anger was beginning to swell, it happened.

From his perspective it went in slow motion, Tweek placed a hand on Cartman's shoulder and leaned in. It was as if everything else was meaningless as he fixated on Cartman's eyes closing, and from what he could see, Tweek holding Eric's face.

After a few seconds it finally hit him what he was seeing. Tweek was kissing Eric Cartman.

The thought of it was laughable, but to see it in the flesh, he felt dizzy.

"Are you alright Kyle?"

He tore his gaze away, face blank and shockingly pale as he addressed Abigail, "I'm fine. C-can we go somewhere else? I'm feeling kind of sick."

"O-oh, okay. We, uh, we can head over to my place for lunch?"

Kyle weakly nodded, heading back the way they came. His date frowned, glancing to the store in confusion before she raced after him.

* * *

"Thanks" Eric mumbled simply, but the underlying tone spoke far more.

Tweek fell back into his seat, "No problem. I was wondering, if you aren't busy, on Sunday Token is having a party. Do you want to go?"

"He isn't exactly fond of me..."

Tweek waved the comment away, "I'll talk to him, b-but will you go?"

Eric gave a toothy grin, "Sure, crashing a party would be fun." He was thankful for the distraction, and so was Tweek, it was good to see Eric confident once again.

The two spent the rest of their morning chatting, unaware of what had just occurred outside. A fact they'd only learn of later...


	11. Blossomed Metal

Applause tore up the opera house, bouncing against the walls until it sounded like everyone was inside a massive bell. And Butters was behind it all, he deserved every clap and holler of delight directed at him.

He stood sheepishly in the center of a stage, blushing heavily as he held a bundle of lilacs in the crook of his bent arm. The purple hues of the fragrant flowers went with the violet glitter around his eyes, which shone even greater with the sheen of sweat upon his skin.

Waving with his spare hand, he met a set of brown eyes. Mouthing "Thank you" as he sent them a grateful grin.

Eric Cartman was clapping the loudest in the entirety of the building, proud grin stretched across his face as he stood from his position. Three lines back from the stage, but placed dead center in the row. Despite all of his earlier complaints, he was glad he went to the blonde's dance recital. Though he'd never tell Butters that...

* * *

...he'd never been more embarrassed in his life before.

Kyle sighed, unable to focus on his novel. Disposing _The Picture Of Dorian Gray_ to his nightstand did little to quell his feverish thoughts, instead they seemed to worsen without anything to pretend to fixate on. Unfortunately they turned back to the events that caused him such discomfort.

_Yesterday, shortly after the "kiss"_

The door to the Cohen household slowly creaked open, thanks to the key that Abigail hung around her neck.

"After you" Abigail said with a smile, sweeping Kyle forward with a steady hand. And hesitantly he complied, walking into a darkened home with a cautious demeanor.

Seemingly the house was smaller than his own, though the contents appeared far more expensive. Everything was clean and precise, with fancy artwork painted by people with long and foreign names that Kyle knew absolutely nothing about. Immediately he felt lackluster in this house, and wasn't sure how to take everything in.

Abigail brushed past him, heading towards the kitchen attached to the living room.

"Go ahead and sit down while I go get us drinks."

"Uh, sure." Kyle eyed the furniture one last time before he seated himself on the couch. The only sounds came from the grandfather clock ticking at the end of the entry way and Abigail rummaging through the refrigerator.

"What do you want, beer?"

Kyle cleared his throat, glancing at the pale arm with a sweating can in its grip. He shook his head, but then swiftly realized that Abigail couldn't see him.

"N-no, I'm good. Do you have a Pepsi or some water?"

"We have some ginger-ale and coke."

"Ginger-ale is fine." Kyle mumbled, waiting until he heard the sound of Abigail's footsteps to look away from the sculpture in the corner of the room. He wasn't sure what it was, it looked like a thick piece of metal twisted into a pretzel and spray painted gold and orange.

Abigail held a beer in her hand, and a ginger-ale in the other. Quickly Kyle accepted his drink, watching as the other took a seat beside him and popped the tab on her's.

Quickly she gulped down the alcohol, uncaring of her current company.

"So..." Kyle started, after deciding to not comment on the underage drinking, "are your parents around?"

Breathlessly Abigail responded after she set her can upon the coffee table, "No, it's just the two of us..."

Kyle hummed, focusing on bringing the cool metal to his forehead until he noticed the pause in the other's words. He turned to her with a confused deliberation.

The smile directed at him had a frown gracing his face, "Are they going to be gone long or ar-" Words were knocked from his mouth as he was pushed, landing with a "Oof" as he sprawled on the couch. The force of the movement had the can slipping from his grip and falling onto the ground, eventually rolling away to some unknown destination.

Abigail crawled over him until she straddled his hips and planted two hands on either side of his head.

"We'll be alone for a while."

"I...what are..." Kyle swallowed the lump in his throat, widened eyes darting away from the butterscotch staring into his own.

A smirk pulled on the corners of Abigail's lips, "I think you know exactly what I'm doing."

"I'm flattered, but I'm, uh..." Kyle writhed under the other's body, trying to shift the weight above him. Just as he found himself beginning to get over the shock of the situation, glossy lips were forced against his own.

Kyle made a muffled sound of dislike, hands gripping the arms caging him against the sofa. He tilted his head to the side just as Abigail attempted to deepen the kiss, lips feeling slimy and unpleasant.

"Wait!" Kyle gasped. He tried to collect his thoughts, but his date wasn't undeterred, lips already latching on the side of his neck.

He shuttered at the feeling, completely different than his time with Eric. Just as the image of the chunky brunette entered his thoughts once again, he felt a hand clumsily attempting to unbutton and unzip his pants.

At that moment he snapped, and with his heart pounding savagely in his ears, Kyle gripped Abigail's shoulders and shoved her off of him. He scrambled to his feet, huffing as he found himself staring at a dazed teenage girl.

The only words he found himself able to say were, "I-I can't." Ignoring the calls sent after him, Kyle ran from the house, door slammed shut. Panting as he sped along the sidewalk, the only thing that reassured him that he hadn't imagined the event was the taste of Abigail's mouth which was cheap beer and cherry chap-stick on his tongue. Without even thinking he spat on the ground.

* * *

Around the same time this had occurred, Eric had gotten a phone call.

"Hello?" he sighed, walking beside Tweek as they headed to the twitchy blonde's house. It was the least he could do after the whole fact that he had cried, like a fucking bitch in front of everyone.

"Hey buddy, it's your best friend! Just wanted to remind you that I have my recital tonight."

"Oh... _that_."

"Remember? I'm playing a flower in Alice's garden?"

"Yeah I know, you're playing a pansy."

Butters scoffed, "You mean lily of the valley?"

"That's what I said. Look, Butters I-"

Butters voice swiftly cut his off. "Can I just say how lucky I am to have a friend like you, pal? 'Cause I'm really glad you're keeping your promise and coming tonight."

"Uhh..." Eric glanced to Tweek who rose a brow at his side of the conversation.

"Now what did you want to say?"

Eric coughed loudly before he finally said, "That I know you'll be the best flower out there."

"Thanks! Now I gotta go and practice some more. See you at 7!"

"Can't wait," Eric grumbled and hung up. His gaze wandered over to the snickering form beside him, "find something fucking funny?"

Tweek snorted, "J-just that you go to such great lengths to p-pretend that you don't care about your friends."

Eric rolled his eyes, "Yeah, well if you excuse me I have to pick my suit for some fruity dancing. Speaking of which..."

"I, uh, already got plans."

"Figures." Eric cursed under his breath, he clasped Tweek's shoulder before they went their separate ways.

* * *

_Later that night, at 7 Pm_

 

The theatre hall was just beginning to fill up, ushers busy as they showed expectant friends and family members to their seats.

Eric glanced down to his ticket, checking his seat number for an upteempth time. And like all of those times before, it was still C6.

Paying no mind to the people behind him trying to walk around, Eric lumbered down the aisle until he caught sight of a sheet of paper taped to a chair's armrest, which bore his letter.

He slid within the row, pleased that no one else had seated themselves in it as he side-stepped to his seat. A huff of relief escaped his lips as he sat down, taking his time to survey the auditorium.

The light fixtures above him were blindingly bright, casting such a glow that it made it easy to study the details of the decorations. Along the sides of the walls, great ribbons were strung, held loosely together with bouquets of vibrant flowers. Assuredly, Eric realized they were fake. This town was far too cheap to spend money on high quality flowers from a florist.

The lip of the stage was garnished with moss and vines that drooped off the sides, carrying open petaled flowers that were dusted with golden glitter. Nestled within the moss were odd bits and ends, upturned teacups, chocolates wrapped in silver paper, pocket watches, thick envelopes, and sprawling creamy papers. Nothing else was shown of the stage, heavy navy curtains were drawn to a close, leaving the audience curious.

All Eric cared about was the fans in the corners of the hall, each whirring loudly as they fought against the heat that a hundred some odd people generated as they sat pressed against one another.

_Rats sitting in the dark_ , Eric thought with a grimace. He popped the top buttons of his white dress shirt, offhandedly waving his ticket towards himself in an pitiful attempt to remain cool.

The lights dimmed, and it took a second for Eric's eyes to adjust to the change. A clicking sound of gears being wound filled the hall, reminiscent of a music box. The curtains started to recede, revealing the rest of the stage.

Lights shaped into the form of botanical bulbs were hung from the awning that expanded across, each differing in shades of colours. The background was painted by hand, with fluffy clouds on a pink lemonade sky.

A flute whistled through the air, accompanied by a xylophone and cello as the first dancer stepped into view. From the tall weeds that cushioned each side of the stage before parting, a girl dressed as a peony drifted into the centre.

With a pause, she graceful dipped her knees as she rose her hands above her head.

And just like that the recital begun, something that Eric found himself sitting through hours of until Butters actually came on stage.

* * *

_Presently, 10:30 Pm_

 

Patiently a tall and hefty brunette waited to the side of the dressing rooms, away from the equally sweaty dancers and guests that drifted to and fro. After what seemed a century, Butters emerged, still holding his lilacs.

Quickly the two spotted each other, with Butters eager to hug Eric.

"Thanks for coming! I just knew you'd show!"

"Yeah okay," Eric awkwardly patted him on the back, "just...you're getting sweat all on me."

"Oops, sorry!" Butters said with a giggle, pulling away.

"You better be, you reek." Which wasn't true, he still smelt of the flowers he played. Not only was he dressed like the tiny bell shaped plants, but smelt of their fragrant essence, something crisp and sweet. The pair fell into an easy harmony and walked beside one another, mindful of the crowd that swarmed in the concert hall before they spilled from the building's insides and into the parking lot.

As they wandered a seemingly endless corridor, partially because Butters stopped every few seconds to chat with some other person, Eric couldn't ignore the small bundle protruding from his back pocket.

It was a gift Eric had saved up for. He never had a real friend before, which made Butters so special. And he planned on keeping him. Far too quickly for Eric to gather his nerves, they reached the exit. Opening the door revealed the night sky, though it was oppressive by its pitch black self, inside a swirling profusion of stars bled onto the heavenward canvas with a multitude of twinkling lights and unfathomable colours.

The sight of it was intoxicating, and Eric greedily attempted to drink it all up with his eyes. As it was a far more reasonable task than attempting to give Butters a gift.

"Hey, buddy?"

Disheartened, Eric lowered his gaping to Butters, who stood a few feet away from him. Obviously he was heading to the parking lot where his parents were waiting, unlike Eric who would hop on the night bus.

This was his chance, and taking a large breath to steel his nerves, Eric closed the space between them and withdrew the small box from his person. Wordlessly he stuffed it into his confused friend's hand before he spun on his heel, and quickly walked to his bus stop, not looking around even at the calls directed at him.

Butters frowned at the sight of Cartman's form disappearing, swallowed by a veil of shadows. He dropped his gaze to the object in his loosely clenched hand, opening it revealed a small box in the middle of his palm. Brows knitted together, he popped the lid back.

And a laugh escaped his lips, filled with elation as he removed the locket from its confines. Wedging the box in the crook of his armpit and torso, Butters used both of his hands to gently press open the metal shaped like a thorned rose.

Inside it was a photo, one of Eric Cartman staring into the camera. Dressed nicely, his face was stretched in an awkward but sincere smile. Chuckling, Butters closed the gift.

It was perfect.


	12. The Ant Hill

  _That Sunday evening_

  

 Token never knew how they started, they just did. He'd receive a text that same day, maybe asking questions about what to bring, and that's when he knew. When he was younger he didn't believe in curses, but after living in South Park for all of these years, his mind quickly changed.

His plight were the parties, ones he didn't announce but somehow always found himself hosting. He sighed, aimlessly flipping through the tv channels from his couch as the chaos went on around him. Thankfully his parents had decided to go on a two day retreat, and the thought had him cringing.

Teenagers giddy to do something illegal, sipped from cold beer cans as they loudly chatted with one another. They didn't care in the slightest if they spilled something or knocked a bowl of chips over, it wasn't their place and certainly not their problem.

_Crash!_

At the sound of glass shattering, reluctantly Token twisted around. Sure enough there was his mother's new vase, just bought from an auction a week ago, on the floor. Its slender creamy surface used to have fiery orange flowers on it, ruffled petals dipped in black. Now the image was lost in a shining mosaic on the floor.

Despair coursed thickly through Token's veins as he mumbled, "She's going to kill me."

He stared at it for a few moments until he heard a knocking at the door, he willed it to stop, for everyone to clean everything up and leave. It kept going on, announcing the arrival of even more guests.

He turned to the two boys standing by the mantle, laughing at a shared private joke.

"Do you mind getting that?" Their backs remained facing him.

Cursing under his breath, Token forced himself to get up and walk to the front door, pushing his way through the rowdy crowd. By the time he opened it he was panting from the excursion.

Eric coldly stared at him, brow raised as he stood upon the front porch. Even with the heat he wore ripped jeans, over which was a black t-shirt a few sizes too big, on the middle of his chest was a large middle finger painted in thick white strokes.

A body shifted into view, automatically Token's eyes followed the motion. Next to the hefty brunette was his lapdog, Butters. His gentle smile went perfectly alongside the pastel shades of his outfit, and altogether it was disarming. That is, until Token glanced back to Eric.

With determined strength and speed, the door raced towards its frame, and Token wasn't sure if he could stop if he wanted to. Just as the door was about to come to a close, a hand shot out.

Grunting loudly, partially from annoyance and effort, Eric held it momentarily enough to worm Butters and himself inside.

Butters mumbled out a "Sorry" as they brushed past the party's host, blushing fiercely at the glare directed at them. The flushed blonde fought to keep beside Eric within the crowd, but that was a challenge unto itself, much less to hold a conversation.

"That wasn't very nice."

Eric snorted, gaze lazily searching the room as he shoved through the writhing mass of bodies like a freight train, "I know! We're his guests, he should be treating us better...but I didn't expect much from his kind anyway..."

Butters blinked for a second in confusion, "You mean because he's black?"

An unexpected scoff erupted from Eric, sound rising above the pulse of the music. "How racist can you be?! And here I thought you were just an innocent lamb!"

"B-but...I thought yo-"

"Because he's _rich_ , Butters, not because of his skin!" The blonde's cheeks burned hotly with embarrassment, stuttering out an incomprehensive response. But any attempt at redemption were ignored as they fell on deaf ears, for Eric was fixated instead on the flash of a familiar form entering the kitchen. He hurried after it, with Butter not far behind.

* * *

Thankfully the room wasn't as stuffy as the rest of the house, with only a few people inside shuffling about. The nature of this kitchen differed from when it was morning to now, the once spotless counters were sticky with the crushed beer cans that littered the space.

This didn't seem to bother Tweek, who was oblivious as he stood next to Craig.

Eric breathed in deeply before he strolled over to the pair, hands stuffed into his jean pockets as he feigned indifference. Even with the thrum of the music, Tweek somehow heard the footsteps clattering on the floor. He glanced up with a small smile, comforting enough to relax the lingering doubt in Eric's chest.

"You made it! H-how" Tweek's eyes glanced to Butters, "...how was the dance recital?" Just as Eric morphed into looking like he had bit into a lemon, Butters grinned with delight.

"Gosh, it was wonderful! My buddy over here even got me a gift!" His hands eagerly dipped underneath his shirt's neckline, fishing for a moment until he pulled a glittering string into view.

Tweek and Craig leaned forward, blinking when a small metal piece was revealed. It was studied approvingly while Eric counted his breathing, lest he whack Butters upside the head.

To his irritation, it was Craig who made the first comment, "That's a pretty lame gift."

Eric inhaled deeply, "No one's asking for your shit opinion, Craig."

"Whatever, you can ask anyone and they'll say the same thing." Eric was compelled to grab a hold of Craig's skull and repeatedly smash it against the granite counters, but Tweek found his eyes in the rising tension.

The haphazard locks rose and fell as Tweek gestured his head towards the only other exit to the kitchen, a hallway that led to a staircase. The words "bathroom" were mouthed to the brunette with severity, knowing how hard it was to pull Eric from a fight.

There was a hesitant pause before Eric muttered for Butters to go mingle with everyone, and with one last frosty glare directed at Craig, he stomped his way to the joined hallway.

Before Butters could even excuse himself, Tweek and Craig began to loudly bicker, with Tweek reprimanding the treatment of Eric.

"Why do you even care? This is Cartman we're talking about!"

"Ark! Exactly! I had asked you to keep an open mind before we showed up, b-but no! You had to run your mouth, like always!"

"Dude, you're making a big deal out of nothing!" The hand that reached towards Tweek was swatted away, Craig's appendage wasn't the only thing that stung. They continued on like that for several minutes, making anyone that entered the room quickly leave, senses prickling with awkwardness as they scurried to get away.

* * *

Stan's break from Wendy was longer than Kyle had thought it'd be, and anything that mentioned the young woman was given a sigh, a sound mixed together with forlorn and knowing. Kyle hated it when his friend did that, which is why he was eager to have him thinking of anything else. He praised every deity he could think of when Kenny presented them a time for Token's most recent party. To be honest, he and Token never seemed to get along well, just acknowledged one another with a curt nod as they passed in the hallways. Stan was certainly on better terms with him, but not by much, which is why Kyle was so surprised and relieved when Kenny texted them the details.

With it being the day before school, Wendy wouldn't be caught dead anywhere less than studious. It was obvious she planned on leaving South Park as soon as possible, with a numerous amount of scholarships to pave her way as she went to university.

Everyone knew it, even poor Stan.

So Kyle wasn't taken back when his best friend made a beeline towards the refreshments table. And the red plastic cup seemed to fuse into the skin of his hand, making Kyle shake his head.

"Kyle!"

His eyes left the sight of his best friend in favour of seeking out the voice, which was rather hard to do with the dim lights, the shadows of teenagers seemed to blend into one another. After waiting a few minutes, he shrugged, heading towards the couches in the living room.

He took a lesson from Token, a host that had gloomily let Stan and Kyle slip through. He wasn't sure what he'd do, maybe just lounge the rest of the night, trying to watch tv as people got wasted.

It was like you were stuck to your knees in mud, every move was deliberate and forced as you pushed yourself forward. At least that's how it felt as he made his way over, though in his case there was a lot more elbows being thrown.

Eventually he made it, and a sigh of relief soared from his lips as he sat down. The leather of the couch stuck to his sweating body, which wasn't pleasant, but certainly better than just standing around. Here he felt like he could actually breathe.

"Kyle!"

He groaned loudly in response, body twisting in his seat. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the room, again coming up with nothing until he caught sight of someone slipping around the hoards of people with ease. Kyle smiled when Kenny plopped down beside him, precariously holding a drink in both hands. With a smile, he offered one.

Kyle shook his head, leaning further away. Ever since the incident with Abigail, he was more cautious around alcohol than usual. The thought of those lips on him again had a shudder of disgust crawl up his spine.

"Please!" Kenny begged, "It took me forever to get us something to drink!"

"You know I'm not fond of drinking" Kyle said as he eyed the two cups.

"Why?" Kenny leaned forward with a devious grin, "You think I drugged it or something?"

Kyle snorted, "Of course not! I just, don't...I, uh..." It seemed with even all of the noise there was a little bubble around the pair, letting the hesitant pause turn into a frustrated mess as he caved in with a "Fine! Fuck...just hand me the stupid thing..."

With a tasteless pout, he ripped the cup from his friend's grip, skeptical as he stared at its contents.

"You should have seen all of the trouble I went to in getting the good stuff, especially with all of their bickering."

"Hmm? Who was?" Kyle weighed the plastic in his hand, annoyed with the heft of it.

Kenny rolled his eyes, taking a moment to sip his drink before he responded, "Tweek and Craig, like an old married couple." At the sound of the spastic teen's name, Kyle perked up, and a heavy feeling settled into the bottom of his stomach.

"Really...what was the fighting about?" He couldn't stop thinking about the cafe, the image seared into the back of his eyelids. The trusting glimmer in Cartman's eyes, and the flutter of eyelashes against skin as those coffee brown hues came to a close. How Tweek's hands were for once steady as they held Cartman's soft pudgy face and shoulder, gentle like Kyle had never seen. Something so different from what he was like with the brunette, the blinding passion that had him wanting to either punch or kiss that fat bigot senseless.

More importantly, he felt when he heard that name a startling slew of emotions, the confusing heartache and jealously, all wrapped nicely together with sadness and anger. Like a little present from Cartman himself, saying _fuck you, Kahl…_

He frowned at the image, brooding over it until he downed his drink in a few sound gulps. It tasted like piss and burned his throat as it went down, but at least the sensation was a distraction.

"Woah! Are you okay buddy?"

Kyle's eyes darted to the side, noticing his childhood friend's furrowed brow.

"Yeah, I'm fine. So are you going tell me what the fight was about or not?"

There was a lingering moment of silence, but neither one commented on the drinking or the edge to Kyle's voice. Kenny was good like that, he always wanted people to voice their issues naturally. He did however, give Kyle a look that said, _I'm here if you need to talk._

After that, he explained that when he entered the kitchen he heard a pretty intense argument, one he only caught some scraps of. No one here wanted to wait long to hear the full details, but Kenny had listened just enough to catch Cartman's name being hissed a few times. Besides that, his guess was just as good as anyone's.

"But if I were you, I'd stay clear of the kitchen just in case."

"Mhmm." Kyle crushed his empty cup and placed it on the end table next to the couch, chewing the inside of his cheek. He tried to mull these words over with a nonchalant air, but he couldn't help his mind from racing.

_Does Craig know about Tweek kissing Cartman? Is that what they're talking about? Is Cartman here?_

"I thought I saw him, but that was half an hour ago."

Kyle jolted, he had said that aloud. Despite all of his dislike of the chunky brunette, he felt himself flush. Inwardly he kicked himself, how could he still be interested in such a degrading self-absorbed asshole?

Sweat started to drip down the side of his face and along his neck, disappearing into the collar of his buttoned up t-shirt, a pale grey that brought out his eyes. He wondered why he chose it at all, why he wanted to appear nice, and why his mind betrayed him with the flashing image of Eric Cartman.

"It's fucking boiling in here" he hissed to himself, not caring that Kenny hummed in agreement.

"The air-conditioning isn't doing much with all these people."

"No kidding, do you know where the washroom is?"

"There's one upstairs, I think someone's in the toilet down here."

"I don't care, I'm only going to splash water onto my face." Uneasily he climbed to his feet, sparing Kenny a friendly nod before he headed towards the staircase. Over the length of his childhood he'd been to Token's house several times, usually for the impressive sleepovers he had, or to have some emergency meeting. Usually because of some stupid half-baked idea of Cartman's that needed to be resolved, the thought of those memories had a bitter taste in Kyle's mouth.

The times he came over to just hang out...he could count those on a single hand. There was just a lack of connection between them, they both had their own separate groups to attend. Both were the voice of logic behind their friends, and each was prideful of that, maybe too much.

This was one of the reasons why there was such a distance between them, why the house had the same foundation but had been renovated and redecorated several times over the years. A reason to why the hallways and rooms all looked different, how they appeared less inviting.

The staircase that wound upstairs was hard to miss, but when he stepped onto the floor, Kyle knew in an instant he'd get lost.

* * *

Eric gripped the edge of the sink counter, fingers tightening around the cool granite as he stared into the mirror. He made faces at his reflection, practicing his glare, a surprised look, and finally a smile. Not a smirk, but a genuine honest smile. It was harder than he thought it'd be.

After a few moments he sighed, relaxing his face.

"Why does everyone hate me?" He didn't have to even wait a second before a sneering voice inside his head replied, _because you're an asshole._

"No, I'm not. I'm kewl as hell, not to mention ripped." His double glanced down to his stomach, raising a brow at the bulge of it before rising again to meet his gaze.

_Don't kid yourself, no one would willingly be in the same room as you._

"Butters would" Eric quickly defended.

_He only pretends to care, someone has to. He thinks you're an evil bastard, just like everyone else._

"That's not true..." he whispered, now unsure as those brown eyes stared deeply into his own.

_You know it is, that's why you're alone, not laughing with everyone else. They're probably talking about you right now, how you're such an utter waste of space...a fatass._

Eric's heartbeat thundered in his ears, loud enough that he couldn't hear the music vibrating the floorboards.

"I'm not fat" he whispered to his reflected self, but a seed of doubt had long since been buried into his chest.

_You know you are, that's why Kyle can't stand to look at you. Why he'll never will, because you're a disgusting monster._

"No I'm not..." he hissed, but the voice ignored him, loud as ever.

Bitterly chuckling as it said, _a weak pathetic loser._

"Shut up!" Eric bellowed. It was suffocating, any possible noise in the house shied away from it. And it stretched out, a ring that lingered in your ears. He almost thought it would never end, but someone cleared their throat.

Faster than he thought he could, Eric spun around, mirror forgotten completely. Standing in the doorway, still tightly gripping the knob was Kyle.

It was as if all of the oxygen was sucked from the room, and Eric gasped to fill his burning lungs. Their eyes held onto one another, each waiting to see what the other would do.

Kyle astounded both of them by speaking, shakily asking, "A-are you alright?"

Eric knew he was **fucked** , there was no possible way he could cover up the psychological battle he had outwardly depicted. Either way he knew he gave Kyle the exact proof he needed, that Eric was doubtlessly crazy.

His daily mask slid into place, a toothy smirk, "Perfectly fine." Today, unlike others, that confident display he surrounded himself with was flimsy.

"Do you..." Kyle chewed his bottom lip, "...do you want me to get Tweek?"

Eric was left blinking, "Tweek?" He acted like he'd never heard the name before, a fact that had Kyle's worry evaporating.

"Yes, Tweek. You know, since you're?" Kyle furiously gestured into the air, only creating confusing shapes.

The teenager across from him merely stared, unable to grasp what he meant. Kyle flushed hotly, enough that his skin felt burnt to a crisp.

"I...I saw you two together."

Eric's mouth went dry, and immediately he swallowed the lump in his throat, but that did little to make it go away.

_He knows about the washroom...how is that possible?!_

The hands pressed to his sides became clammy, as did the rest of his body. Fearful sweat collected underneath the back of his neck and slowly trailed downwards. With more patience than he knew he possessed, he waited until Kyle could elaborate.

"...at the cafe when you..."

He fought the desire to let out an exhale of relief.

"...kissed." _Uh, what?_

Eric shook his head a little bit, unsure if he heard that last part correctly. Again silence overtook them, consuming any hope for conversation. That is, until Eric broke out into laughter.

It was a rich deep sound, like chocolate melting. To listen to it made you want to share the laugh, and Kyle's treacherous lips twitched at the corners.

"W-why would I kiss _Tweek?"_  Another spout of giggles flew from his mouth.

Kyle's face turned several shades darker to an almost purple, _God just kill me now_. "But I saw you!"

Eric's laughter simmered down, "You saw what you wanted to see, trust me, I have no interest in being a homewrecker. But I'm surprised, _Kahl._ I never knew you'd get _jealous!_ Especially when you made things _soooo_ clear."

The grip on the doorknob squeezed even harder. Kyle narrowed his eyes, "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I find this..." Eric mockingly reenacted Kyle's hand gestures, "ironic. You act like such a massive bitch, then you complain when someone else shows interest."

"I'm the bitch, _me?!"_  Kyle scoffed, releasing his hold of the door as he stepped inside the room. "You're the one acting like an asshole, what did you say, 'who would want to date me'? How is that fair?!"

Eric bared his teeth in a snarl, towering over the red haired teen, "Yeah, but I only said that after you were repulsed by anyone thinking of us together! How do you think that made me feel?! Geez Eric, I loved shoving my tongue down your throat, now I gotta leave before Stan sees us."

"I never said that! How don't I know this wasn't some ploy to gather dirt on me?!"

"Oh my God..." Eric choked out, "that's how low you think of me?"

Kyle couldn't find the words to respond, watching as the muscle in Eric's jaw tightened. Sharp and hard like diamonds, those brown eyes burned into his.

"I'm s-"

"No," Eric interrupted, "you've said enough." Without another word, he brushed past Kyle, shoulder connecting his as he stalked out.

By the time he got to the main floor, his expression was murderous. He didn't care if he shoved teens out of his way to the front door, he wasn't in the mood to pretend to be pleasant. And like a religious act of God, the crowd parted like the Red Sea, everyone donning confused looks as they stepped back. From the left side somewhere he heard someone call his name, probably Tweek, but he ignored it.

He didn't relent on his rapid pace, even when he yanked the door open and slammed it behind him.

* * *

Outside it wasn't as hot as being in Token's house, which in all likelihood had something to do with the absence of teen bodies radiating sexual tension. The breeze that greeted Eric was cool, enough that he would have thought it relaxing, if he were in any other situation.

Its tender touch brushed back his hair, rising it from his forehead as he made the journey back home.

Just as he crossed the street to get to the sidewalk, he heard it. The familiar calling of his name, "Cartman!"

He bristled at the sound, and resolved to hold his head up high as he continued. His footsteps were loud against the heated path, a thudding that echoed in the evening haze. On the horizon, the sun was a molten crescent, sending thick rays of pinks and hushed oranges over the town. Houses and the trees were cast in its glow, making what little remained of the snow into a radiant glimmer. Beauty was hard to find in South Park, and such scenes were meant to be cherished.

Not many knew of this, but Eric sought these moments. The effect of watching a sunset, snow drifting from the sky, or rain cascading down the thick rough bark of pine trees was calming. He had been waiting forever for it to get hot enough to sit outside, and at first he was thankful for the heat wave. Now, it seemed his desires liked to spit in his face.

His eyes were glued to his walking feet, watching as the pavement turned into gravel then eventually to tall grass. By the time he looked up he had made it to a clearing near the edge of town, a place where a hill climbed from the cold earth and bore its hump to the world. This unique place was known to attract two types of people, couples for its view of the surrounding meadows and its wildflowers, and kids for winter activities.

With pride Eric remembered when Stan had dared him to sleigh down blindfolded, he had done it without fear, and boasted of the chipped tooth he earned when he hit a tree. He had fond memories, like when he stuffed snow down Butter's jacket, or when he packed his snowball with ice and threw it at Pip. It even gave the small blonde a bloody nose, one he tried to put off with a nervous friendly smile.

Here he felt safe, a haven where he could think without interruption. Nodding to himself, Eric inhaled deeply before he made the trek of climbing the steep hill. When he reached the top, he plopped to the ground and catched his breath. His laboured pants were muffled by tree branches and leaves rustling, nature's own serenade.

Serenity oozed within Eric, relaxing his mind and body as he started to let go of all of the stress. The technique had been learned from a self discovery VCR he had bought at a garage sale, vividly Eric remembered the previous owner had been an old lady that smelt of cough syrup and stamp ink.

As he practiced evening out his breathing, he mumbled out, "Best 25 cents I spent." His shoulders dropped, releasing untold tension, similar to his hands which unfurled their clenched fists.

The techniques had just begun to work their magic when, "Cartman!" From his seated position, Eric turned around as much as he could, baffled as Kyle rode into the clearing on a princess bicycle way too small for him. In fact, the bike looked like it belonged to a grade schooler, with glittery silver and pink tassels on either end of the handles.

Still caught up in surprise, Eric remained seated as Kyle eventually rode to the foot of the hill before he came to a stop. He climbed off, putting the little stand out so the bike would remain upright as he jogged his way up. It was certainly a shorter amount of time for Kyle to reach the top, but it was just enough for the brunette to spin back.

"I didn't know you were blind and stupid, Jew, but I want to be alone."

"I know I just...hear me out okay?"

"Yeah, no thanks. I'm done listening to you, just scurry back to whatever hole you crawled from."

" _Eric, please!"_

The soundless void returned. Kyle's heartbeat was stuck in his throat, but then there was a dip of Eric's head as he nodded. This was as much of an approval as Kyle was going to get, and he seized as much from it as possible, taking the few steps to stand beside the brunette before sitting down. The grass was wet and immediately soaked through his pants, but he couldn't find himself caring. Instead he ripped grass with his fingers as they both stared into the distance, watching as the sun inched itself down.

"Look, I'm sorry."

"Tell me something I don't know."

Kyle chewed on his bottom lip, "I'm scared all the time, and I worry over both minor and serious things. If my hair looks as uncontrollable as I know it is, or if Stan will be happy in the end, will I meet my parent's expectations, and will I meet my own."

Eric snorted, "If tha-"

"I'm not done." Eric rolled his eyes, but waved for Kyle to continue. He took another deep breath, "will I ever be accepted, loved, or..." he let the words hang in the air, and Eric glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

With a shuddering breath, Kyle forced the words out through clenched teeth, "will I ever be...normal."


	13. Peaches & Brown Sugar

**Author's Note: Sorry everyone for the unexpected hiatus, but things came up, mostly work. Anyway, I'll be trying to get back into a more regular posting schedule in order to finish this story up. It's shorter than preferred, and initially this chapter's contents were meant to be within chapter twelve, but what can you do?**

 

**I assure you that the next chapter will be much longer, especially when I have some cups of tea/coffee in me. Thanks for being patient! xx**

**PS. I'm struggling with the idea, but this story MAY be expanded to eighteen chapters. Hopefully it won't come to that, but again, I'm appreciative of the understanding feedback.**

**\- Claire(BookishTea)**

* * *

"You're fucking kidding me, right? That's it?"

"I..."

Was that the build up? No tears, spectacular confessions, or passionate kisses to make all of the heartache go away? Of course not. The hurt and anger had been piled too high, enough that any trust between them was dissolved.

"What do you mean, 'that's it'? It meant a lot for me to say that.."

"Kahl, please. Everyone knows you're gay, it's not a big secret."

"The point wasn't if it was obvious or not! I just..."

"No," the forcefulness of Eric's voice had Kyle pausing with shock, head turning so their gazes could meet. "I'm not letting you do this. This: 'shit, Cartman, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings.' I can't stand it! I know you hate me, I don't need your pretend bullshit!"

"Bullshit?!" Kyle scoffed, "How is me admitting my fucking emotions, 'pretend'? I'm telling you something serious, but no, everything has to be about you!"

"Welcome to reality, Kahl! Of course everything will revolve around me, I'm called an asshole for a reason!"

"Can you just **stop?!** I don't hate you! I hate this!" He wildly gestured between them, voice rising louder and louder as his face flushed with annoyance, "I _hate_ that this is the relationship we have, that when we're together nothing goes right!"

"Well guess what, nothing goes right around me! Why do you think no one wants to hang out around me?! Because I'm a fucking fatass, Kahl!" The last sentence was screamed out, until a heavy soundless rift enveloped it.

Their eyes were locked, with Kyle's brows furrowed as he stared with disbelief and worry at the other boy. Realizing what he had just said, slowly Eric looked away, expression tired as he faced the horizon of a darkened sky.

His next words were spoken softly, a mere whisper that only left the shared injured nerves tingling. The clarity of his self image was now blisteringly obvious to Kyle, the sculpted form he saw whenever he looked into the mirror was now known to be nothing less than repulsive.

Kyle helplessly waited until Eric began to talk, trying to stir something up in his mind to say. Anything that would change the atmosphere back to carefree, he was scared...scared he didn't know what to do, and how he could help Cartman.

"...You don't have to be here, Kahl. Go back to the party, I know that's what you really want."

"I..." the words fell limply into the space between them, unable to rise on their own.

For once Eric didn't look at him, no longer curious at the inner battle his friend/enemy had. Sighing a mere degree above a whisper, Eric climbed to his feet, brushing off the back of his jeans. Without a word he walked down the hill, shoulders somehow equally tense and slouched.

Kyle swallowed the lump in his throat, staring at the hunched form. Quickly he pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes screwed shut as he let out a loud sigh. He hadn't even finished sighing before he was on his feet, fingers already grasping for the inky fabric of Eric's shirt. As soon as skin grazed ever so lightly against 100% cotton, Eric was sent stumbling backwards.

Momentarily the air was knocked from his chest, the very same where two tanned thin arms wound around his torso, squeezing as he was drawn close to another body.

It's strange, that dip in sound where everything is lost. The comparative instance when you're in the eye of the storm, and not even the trees can coax their leaves into rustling. And yet something did escape this void, the steady sound of another's heartbeat, frantically pumping blood.

Listening to it, gradually Kyle felt Eric's body loosen up.

"I'm..." Kyle bit off the rest of his words, now remembering what the boy he held had shouted earlier.

_...'I'm sorry I hurt your feelings.' I can't stand it!_

Unconsciously his grip tightened around the brunette, trying to embrace him as much as possible. He couldn't say the words, couldn't even think them. But he knew deep down that he wasn't completely fucked, Eric, whether on an instinctive level or not would get it.

They stood there, maybe for a few seconds, hour, or even a century. The point was that they were there together, locked in a hug that spoke far more volumes than the other could convey with sentences. One of Eric's hands reached around him, finding one of Kyle's arms and gave it a gentle squeeze. It didn't hurt by any means, surely light enough that if Kyle hadn't been waiting for it, he wouldn't have noticed the touch.

He drew him closer one last time, burrowing his face into the other's broad shoulder, inhaling against the clothed skin.

Everything about Eric was familiar, from the way he dressed, walked, to even smelled. Like laundry recently washed, hanging outside on a line as the summer wind gently swayed it. Laundry that was vibrant with the scent of soap, peaches and brown sugar. It was pleasing, but not as much as the comfort of familiarity behind it.

When he finally let go, he left enough room for the other boy to turn around and face him. It was strange, that moment after. It was awkward, and yet peaceful. He couldn't help but glance down to the brunette's lips, breath catching as he found himself staring. No, it wasn't right. Things were...it was all too fresh.

To ensure that he wouldn't lean forward, Kyle took a step back, gulping down the anxiety that flared.

"C'mon," he started, voice hoarse, "I'll walk you home."

* * *

The sun had certainly lowered by the time they got back onto the road, the shades now rich and deep as they borderlined black. There was still wisps of colour, outlining the distant mountains and forest, like blades of grass in the horizon.

Spots of light reflected off of the silver paint of the sleek bicycle, which Kyle had to hunch over to steer as the two boys walked in unison.

Silence was still an apparent companion with them, but they dealt with it as best as they could. Neither felt it necessary to spoil the effect.

Eventually they came just before Bonanza, their shared street.

"I have to drop this off."

Eric glanced from Kyle to the bicycle before he gave a curt nod, following him to a small house. While the walls were white, the roof was a pale blue, and accented by a pear door, window trim, and deck.

A curtain in the window overlooking the yard was moved when Kyle wheeled the bicycle over to the house's side, Eric at first didn't think much about it, but then the front door was shoved open. Standing in the door frame was a visibly angry man, with a little girl grabbing a hold onto the back of his pants, peering at them with two large fearful eyes.

"Hey!" He shouted, loud enough to have the pair jumping. "You're the sons of bitches who stole Maggie's bike!"

Eric and Kyle didn't need to look at each other to know what the other thought, immediately the bicycle was left to crash onto the melting snow. The sound of sneakers crunching half frozen grass before they landed onto the asphalt, there the slapping noise of panic mingled with screams of outrage as the father chased after them.

By the time they got onto their street, both had their hearts hammering against their chests. While Kyle ran with ease, practically flying, Eric gasped at the concept of keeping up. They only came to a stop a few houses before their own, with Eric immediately bent over, catching his breath.

"O-oh my god.." he managed, "..a..a heads up wou-would be good next time!"

Kyle wiped the sweat from his forehead, "Noted."

Still struggling to get his body back under control, Eric peered upwards. Kyle, the Jew bastard that he was, didn't look like he just ran for his life. What an inconsiderate asshole. He snorted, raising a hand up.

A small smile tugged on Kyle's lips, he high-fived the offered appendage.

"Kyle!"

Thinking it was the father again, they spun around, only to be bewildered by the sight of Stan jogging up to meet them. Eric's face fell.

"What's up?" Kyle asked when Stan reached them, "Why aren't you at the party?"

Stan shrugged, still looking suspicious as his gaze passed over Cartman, "It just wasn't doing it for me, what are you two doing?" His eyes lingered on the brunette, searching for any clue as to why they would be willingly around one another.

The implications had Eric straightening, and without waiting for Kyle to reply, mumbled out a "Nothing" before he headed home. He ignored the silence that followed, the lack that came with Kyle being startled mute.

He didn't look back, afraid what he'd find in the red haired teen's face. And if his own would betray him.

Stan fixated his attention back on his best friend, "What's with him? ...Kyle?" Only the other wasn't listening, brows knitted together as he stared after the disappearing chunky form. That's when Stan realized it, the longing stare he'd often seen in himself. The one he reserved for Wendy, the helplessness. But this was worse than his relationship with the aspiring feminist, because it was directed at Eric Cartman-

* * *

-didn't need this right now, he never did. The door slammed behind him, final as he ventured from the hallway and up to the staircase. The only relief he felt when he entered his bedroom, his sanctuary, was when the lock was slid into place.

He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down, kicking them to the side as he slipped into bed.

_Fuck this heatwave_ , Eric thought, groaning as he rolled over. Just as he did so, a vibrating against carpet reached his ears. He lifted his eyes to the mess of his pants, where his cell had been tucked within his pocket. It took only a second to contemplate getting out of his bed's comforts, and venturing over to answer whatever text or call he'd received.

He turned, back towards it. Whatever it was, he'd deal with it tomorrow.

* * *

Kyle couldn't tear his eyes from the screen, impatient to see the responding bubble pop up, with _his_ reply. And yet, there was nothing. Not even to say he read it at all, and that was disconcerting.

He rose a finger towards the keypad, wondering if he should bother sending a message. He typed a trial out,

_Look, Cartman, we should talk._

Even with Stan questioning him, a muffled voice in the background, Kyle stared at the text. Would he really get a response from Eric? Would he even want to know what the brunette would say? He wasn't sure. Wasn't sure if he had enough courage to accept and read whatever was sent, his stomach was already flipping with fear and other pessimistic emotions.

He wanted to put it off until tomorrow to tackle whatever their relationship was, but he was afraid that if he waited too long, it'd all turn sour and bitter. More so than its current state. Kyle couldn't stand that image, he craved desperately what he had seen in the cafe. The trust and vulnerability; and with that thought, there was only one thing he could do.

_Look, Cartman, we sho_

_Look, Cart_

_Lo_

He exited out of his text messaging, turning off his cell. Mumbling an excuse to his best friend, one he knew he'd be interrogated about later, Kyle headed down the street by his lonesome. Ignorant of the knowing look that was sent after him, as well as the shaking of his friend's head.


	14. Lusting for Heartbreak

Dreams are tricky things; without thought they shift and alter into both equally exciting and terrifying planes of existence. For Eric, he was affected by this more so than others. Particularly he often dreamt of walking down an endless path, the background changing at a flip of a dime. Likewise to yesterday's unwavering heat, his dream version had stripped down to the bare minimum of clothing. Sweat poured off of him, leaving behind puddles as he fumbled to tie his shirt around his waist.

It didn't help much. Instead the revealed flesh of his torso shone even greater in the rich hues of sunlight's orange, like someone had painted the sky in nacho cheese. The thought had him groaning aloud, wishing he could have dreamt himself into some fast food restaurant. Why is it you can never dream of what you want? Only of what you don't need?

As if to mock him, the park in which he'd been walking through, had its manicured hedges transform into suspiciously hamburger shapes bushes. The realization had Eric's stomach growling even louder...if that was possible.

Determined to ignore them, he focused his attention on what lay in the distance. It was just in the horizon, barely far enough that he had to squint. The vibrant green grass underfoot, so bright that it hurt your eyes, had wilted with heavy frost at the approach of snow.

He began to undo his shirt, slipping it back on when a powerful gust of wind reached him. Its icy touch had him shivering from the sheer intensity; with it this world changed into a desolate winter wonderland. The sky eased into a bleak grey, dusty with specks of frost, each like diamond particles. Deadly in its sharp form, but brilliant as it shone a kaleidoscope of colour. But despite this mystifying beauty, this realm was barren, making the journey utterly lonesome. The next shiver that came wasn't from the drop in temperature.

To get his mind off of it, Eric kept pushing through. The action was near impossible, with each step a foot of snow was added, like a vengeful supernatural entity was purposely torturing him. It didn't take long for the snow to be past his thighs, numbing everything in a steady frigid touch.

Eric had spent his whole life in this type of weather, he knew the risk if he stopped moving. Already he was fairly certain that he was getting frostbite, but that wasn't the worst of it. He shoved himself forward, grunting as death provocatively tugged at the corners of his mind.

The wind picked up, so strong that Eric was blinded. As he stumbling forward, he could almost sense that a wall was before him. The ice so intense that it had become black, morphed into an entirely different colour off of the spectrum. Like a...like a void.

It took a couple of moments to stop, but he did. The momentum of his legs jerkingly skidded to a standstill, muscles immediately shaking from both exhaustion and the need to start up again. An image of a train flashed in Eric's mind, brakes smoking as it shrieked on the tracks.

 _I'm going to die here_ , he concluded. A fact, nothing more or less, just announced with tired conviction. Slowly as he came to grips with a now seemingly universal standard, long since established within the cosmos, he heard it.

The sound emerged on the very same wind that tormented him, clawing at his vulnerable back as it howled.

_Caarrttmann!_

He clenched his teeth; his legs started to work again, rising and falling like pistons. Rhythm unbreakable, even if it was contained in a weak husk that panted desperately. The excursion had meant to draw him farther away, instead the sound remained constantly near his ear, almost as if he'd never moved at all. He knew for certain that wasn't true, the wall was reaching out to meet him. A fact he knew would come to happen, even if he shut his eyes.

Instead he was left to swim within the icy confines, which rose on its icy tip-toes to his belly button, then up to his chest. He was cold all over, unable to feel the slightest brush of touch. Or that's what he thought.

_Carrrttttmaaannnnn!_

A hand pressed into his back, distinctive through all of the snow. He flinched. Fear had burrowed itself into his belly, feeling like someone was stabbing his innards with a rusty spoon. He screamed and turned around, blindly hitting whatever was behind him.

"Fuck! Cartman?!"

His eyes snapped open, blinking back the barrage of light as a hazy figure came into focus. Kyle, dressed in shorts and a thin jacket with a small backpack on, held his left cheek with such severity that Eric feared for his very life.

"Kahl, what are-" he broke off, now noticing where they were, his bedroom. And just like that, the facts presented themselves. How the window across from his bed had been opened, allowing a draft to circulate the room. Something that worsened by Eric's lack of sheets and blanket, things he had inadvertently kicked off in his restless slumber. And finally, that Eric was only in his boxers.

Kyle sighed, tentatively touching his cheek when he paused. Cartman wasn't looking at him, which at first had a curse ready at his lips, when he too came to a complete stop. Inch by inch, his eyes ventured over to what Eric was staring at.

 _Oh_.

Past the smooth soft curve of the brunette's stomach, Kyle's blank stare lowered.

Eric swallowed thickly, hoping it'd help his parched mouth. In the pit of his stomach there was a peculiar sensation, almost like something was bubbling forth. Unable to contain it much longer, he started to laugh. He honestly didn't find any of this funny in the least, but he couldn't stop. It was awkward and set on a grating high pitch that had Kyle wincing, and yet he endured it, standing there as equally uncomfortable.

"I...uh.." Kyle coughed, glancing away from Eric's morning wood. "I should..." without any further comment, he exited the room. Firmly the door was shut behind him.

* * *

Alone in the empty and darkened corridor, Kyle sighed. Here the weight of what had just occurred tolled on him greatly, causing his eyes to screw shut as he pressed both of his palms into his eyes.

Groaning as softly as he could, Kyle felt his face, it was impossibly hot to the touch.

 _I'm such an idiot_ , he thought to himself. Lifting his hands to run them through his tangled hair, expression caught between looking both embarrassed and frustrated.

Summoning the last of his resolve, he called out, "I'm taking you running, Cartman! That means shorts if you have any, and a shirt that'll go with a jacket! The temperature dropped last night!"

Tilting his head slightly to the side, he could hear mumbled curses as the giggling evaporated. Drawers opening replaced the sound as it mingled together with the rustle of clothing.

"So is this how we're dealing with it?!"

Kyle frowned, "What?!" _What the hell is he talking about?_

"Don't play stupid, Kahl! You know what I mean!" _Uh, no I don't._

Mulling these words over, Kyle stepped to the side as the door began to open up. Eric didn't have a lot of clothes for exercising in, but he had tried his best with what he had.

He had put on shorts made from a cheap and shiny black fabric, which surprisingly hung loosely from the other's hips. _Since when did Cartman start losing weight?_

Kyle squinted, failing to recall ever seeing him doing something other than eating, watching tv, and/or plotting some diabolic plan.

The somehow slimmed brunette wore a garnet puffy vest over a pale grey long sleeved shirt. Kyle hated to admit it, but he looked... _good_. The whole 'I just woke up, but yes, I look naturally this sexy' worked for him, and so effortlessly.

Kyle couldn't help but be jealous, and was so caught up in appraising the other teen, that he hadn't noticed that Eric spoke until he flashed him an unamused glare. He barely had time to breathe when Eric brushed past him, shaking his head as he went down the hallway.

It drove him insane, but he was continuously ignored until they managed to get outside. Brow furrowed as Kyle bit his tongue, he allowed this to continue on until they were a considerable distance from their homes.

What he and Cartman had was private, he didn't need his mother sticking her nose into where it didn't belong. Or his neighbours, friends, you literally couldn't trust anyone in South Park.

"Cartman" he jogged the few steps so he could stay beside him while they walked, mindful that Eric stubbornly refused to even glance in his direction. It had Kyle bristling with anger; he took in a few deep breaths, hoping it'd help prevent him from saying something he'd only regret later. It wasn't really working…

"Look can we please not do this? We were just starting to be friendly with one another."

Eric shrugged, "Everything is good, alright? I'm fine." As if to reassure him, he tossed the fuming teen a smile. If anything it made Kyle feel worse about how things were going so far, and like a tidal wave, his memories played back a similar situation. How he had angrily said, _I don't hate you! I hate this!...I hate that this is the relationship we have, that when we're together nothing goes right!_

A heavy sigh was released into the chilled air, for once he wouldn't push. He'd let things work out for themselves.

Enveloped within this silence, they continued their journey into the tree line, headed towards a famous local hiking trail. The dirt underneath their running shoes had frozen until it resembled cracked mud, crunching loudly as they both avoided roots and jagged rocks. Thankfully their route branched out onto a grove that was well taken care, assuring as they ran down the winding path, that no one would suffer from a twisted ankle.

"Here's good enough." Kyle unslung his backpack from his shoulders and placed it on the ground, taking the time to stretch. And just like before, Eric appraised his body with a grimace, lips curled in distaste. Not for his appearance, he was admiring the view of Kyle bent over. What he didn't like was the whole idea of doing laps around the woods, like some fucking idiot. The fact that he hadn't voiced this surprised Kyle, who was somewhat grateful and proud when he noticed when Eric merely joined in. Reluctantly and with a lot more grumbling than necessary, but he still did it.

Standing off to the side, Eric tried his best to mirror Kyle's movements, still insecure that he'd be mocked for his lack of grace and confidence. With the realization that Kyle wouldn't, tension uncoiled from the brunette's shoulders.

Kyle straightened himself, pulling his arms in front of him until he heard his back give a satisfying crack. Content, he dropped his stance and put his backpack back on.

"I'm ready to go, how about you?"

"Yeah," Eric sighed, cracking his neck "let's get this shit over with."

* * *

A whistling resonated within the forest, cast on a wind that smelt sweetly of the pines that reinforced this sanctuary. They groaned as they swayed, ancient beings that bore the weight of heavy branches, their ashy needles rustling against one another.

This sound followed the boys, cushioning the other noises that come with a place brimming with life. Whether that means a bird's shrill cry, insects buzzing, or the thudding knock that always seems to lurk; like the trees themselves are communicating.

Kyle divided his mind for three tasks: he took in their surroundings with awe, eyes eager to catch a flash of colour against the backdrop, wildflowers that were hearty enough to survive the mountainous environment. The other two halves were more instinctual, one to ensure his feet remained on the ground by looking for any obstacles on the trail as he mentally mapped their location at all times, and the final to check on Eric's progress. Though he was itching to be free, to run until his body ached and his lungs burned, he remained tethered to the brunette's side. His ears were keenly listening to the other's breathing to make sure it wasn't too laboured, eyes shifting occasionally to glimpse Eric's face.

They remained like this for at least ten minutes, lightly jogging together until it became uphill. Here Kyle came to a stop with Eric gasping beside him, hand splayed on his chest as he stared at the path.

"A-al-alright, I think I'm done.." He wiped the back of his hand against his forehead, trying to get rid of the sweat that was dripping into his eyes.

Kyle frowned in disbelief, "But we just started! Don't you feel alive?"

"I-if we ru-un anymore I'm going to be the opposite...H-how about we just call it a day?"

It was unfair, he knew it, but he couldn't help himself. Running had always been an escape for him, so he had wanted Eric to share something so important to him. Though it was clear from just listening to Eric's breathing that he needed time, clearly he hadn't been the one to exercise at every free opportunity.

"Alright, we can rest for a bit then head back."

"Thank God!" Faster than Kyle could process, Eric plopped himself onto the ground. He moaned so loudly at the prospect of resting his feet, that Kyle's face began to burn. Clumsily he unlaced his shoes, exhaling when they were loose.

Kyle rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore him as he sat next to the exhausted brunette. He removed his backpack, placing it in front of him to unzip its contents.

While Eric's eyes had shut in bliss, he felt something wet and cold press against his neck. Automatically he grabbed onto it, surprised to feel a cool hand within it. After popping his eyes open, he accepted to water bottle with a curt nod, letting Kyle take his hand back.

Dying of thirst, he unscrewed the lid as fast as possible, gulping back the refreshing elixir until it was empty. Tossing the used plastic carcass to the side, he gasped, "More."

Soon enough more liquid was pouring down his throat, so transfixed with the task of soothing his parched mouth that he left Kyle to silently stare into the distance, periodically sipping from his own water bottle or chewing on his unwrapped granola bar.

He didn't speak until Eric was done, already rummaging through the bag to look for something to eat.

"There's been something that's bothered me for a while."

Eric hummed back, still distracted as he searched.

"You've...I noticed you've been making a lot of comments lately-"

He pulled out a tart green apple, wiping it on his shirt until it shone. "You mean like when I call you gay?" Eric teasingly asked around his first bite, chewing loudly with every obscene crunch.

"No, I mean when you call yourself... _fat_." Eric stopped eating. "Whenever we fight, you...you just go on this whole tangent about how much you hate yourself. How I apparently hate you." Kyle ran a hand through his hair, expression bewildered with an array of confusing emotions.

"I thought at first maybe you were doing it for attention, like it was some attempt to make me feel bad for you, but now..." Kyle moved his gaze onto the boy beside him, "I think you really mean it... Cartman?"

He didn't look at him, he couldn't. He just schooled himself into a blank expression as he stared at the tree directly across from them, body stiff as he shook. Shook from the fear that coursed thickly through his veins; he knew Kyle was watching his reaction, and that fact made things ten times worse.

"I think I should go." He dropped his apple, unsteadily rising to his feet, shoes still undone. The forest was dense and baffling, he had no idea where they were, and the threat of getting lost was immense. But he didn't care, he needed to leave. He'd rather face being eaten by a bear or some cannibalistic mountain men then stay here any longer.

"Wait, where are you going!?" Kyle hastily climbed his feet, latching onto Eric's arm as he tried to walk away.

"I have to..." Eric began to panic. "I...just..fuck off!" He tried to wrench his arm away, but Kyle was holding on strong. "I want to be alone, Kahl!"

" _No!_ Every time I try to talk to you, you do this! You run away instead of fixing things! I'm not doing it anymore!"

Stomach swooping in agitation, Eric started to hyperventilate. Shaking he slowly slipped to the ground, hoping his weight would be enough for Kyle to let go. Instead the stubborn teen followed him down, forcing his hands on either of his shoulders, holding him.

"Cartman...Cartman look at me. I don't want to be shut out, just...just let me in. _Please_."

Eric rose his hands to his eyes, shielding them as he doubled over. He wanted to disappear, the guilt and pain overpowering. Why did he need to feel this bad? Kyle had been one of the voices mocking his weight.

"I hate you" he mumbled, over and over again. Eyes burning as tears spilled forth, he let Kyle cradle him, shushing his broken crying. Lean hands rubbed his back in calming circles, allowing all of the anger and doubt to ooze into the open air. The floodgates had been opened, allowing everything to messily seep out.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Kyle whispered, sniffling as he rested his cheek against the crown of Eric's head. He waited until he heard him finish crying, that's when he leaned down, resting his weight on his folded knees as he lifted Eric's hands from his face.

"It's okay, I've got you. I'm not going to hurt you." Eric wouldn't meet his gaze, eyes lowered as he blinked.

Kyle cupped each cheek, kissing just below both eyes. He ignored the salty taste of the other's tears, then pressed a kiss on the corner of Eric's mouth. Forehead pressed against the brunette's, he closed his eyes, sniffling back his own tears once again.

Both were emotionally and physically exhausted, leaning against one another they waited for several minutes until they were both able to speak without sobbing.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm good." Eric sighed back, voice hoarse.

"Are you sure, Cart- _Eric_. You can tell me-"

"Holy fucking hell! I cried like a bitch, that's it. I'm not dying or anything, so stop nagging me."

Kyle paused, hurt stabbing into his heart as he slowly withdrew himself. Or he tried to, at the slightest of movement Eric was gripping onto him, bringing his body back to be squished into a hug. "Stop! I..." _I didn't mean it._

To make up for it, he leaned back just enough to kiss him. It wasn't like before, there wasn't any rush or consuming passion behind it. The touch of it was brief and tender, like Eric was unsure of himself. And yet it was still the same, it had Kyle shutting his eyes as he became lightheaded, like he could drift up into open space at any moment.

He held onto one of Eric's arms, afraid that if he let go he'd fly away. Heart hammering into his ears, Kyle immediately craved Eric again when he eventually pulled away. His lips were tingling from the taste of mint, which caused a shiver to slither down his spine.

"C'mon," Kyle hummed "I'm taking you home." Eric smiled at him, expression so raw with genuine emotion that he became helpless. They got back onto their feet, not caring that their knees were dirty, or their clothing was soiled. The backpack was gathered, Eric shouldering it this time; and shoes were retied. The journey back was certainly longer, but it was worth it, two hands intertwined as they made their descent.

Completely unaware in their euphoria that someone had been snapping photos, lurking behind the rough bark of a gnarled tree.

* * *

_An hour and a half later_

The sun was high in the sky, veiled behind a thick layer of stormy clouds. By the time they reached their street, they were shivering. The walk to Eric's house was sped up until it was brisk, not stopping until they stood on the Cartmans' front porch. There they lingered, unable to peel themselves away from the other.

"I hope after everything, you can talk to me."

Eric hummed, expression tired but happy, "I will I just..."

"You need time?" Kyle finished. "I understand."

"Kahl, I've been meaning to..." Eric swallowed, "I mean I'm not the best with sharing my problems, but I think you need to know. The reason why Tweek and I are so close, is because he found me-"

"Kyle Broflovski! You get here this instant!"

Both their heads whipped around, it was hard to mistake the murderous screech of his mother for anything else. And by the sound of it, she aimed to make him the victim.

"Shit" Kyle whispered, half listening to the hissed curse from Eric. "I should go see what she wants." He tried to pull away, but Eric wouldn't let go, expression fixed into a glare.

"I'll be fine, it can't be that bad." To relax the other, he hurriedly kissed him until he felt the grip go slack. "I'll be right back."

"You better," Eric breathed, "or I'm coming for your ass."

Kyle snorted before he headed out, yelling over his shoulder, "I'd like to see you try!" as he left Eric to watch him from the porch. Not wishing to make his mother wait any longer, he ran down the sidewalk and to his house. Breathlessly he yanked the door open and called out, "Mom?! I'm here."

The hallway was empty. Brow furrowed in concern, he shut the door behind him and walked to the end of the hall, turning around the bend to the living room, "Mom? What's going..."

His mother sat glaring at him, sitting beside her on the couch was Abigail.

"...on...?"

"Kyle, take a seat. We have _a lot_ to talk about."


	15. Please Leave A Message

Do you ever have moments where you feel like you're in a dream? When things turn so surreal, that you ponder whether you're just another version of yourself? Existing in a strange sense that you've stepped into the dreamscape. Somehow you _are_ and _aren't_ you. It's incredibly confusing. These are usually the types of moments you have after having a little too much spiked eggnog at the holiday office party, a feverish and spiced concoction.

And currently, this is how Kyle felt, caught between two worlds. Looking from his mother to Abigail, to back to his mother again, he pinched himself. No, he wasn't dreaming.

" _Kyle_." His mother warned, apparently still having murderous intent.

Gulp. He swallowed instinctual fear, then he warily joined them on the couch. A flashback of everything he's ever done, anything as insignificant as not flossing, came back in full force. His mind raced of possible answers, not wanting to acknowledge the obvious. That Abigail didn't take rejection well, and despite what he wanted, his hazy memory of the attempted sexual assault came rearing to the forefront of his thoughts.

He decided it'd be best if they made the first move, eyes darting towards Abigail. It was like they were playing chess, and he had to protect his king from checkmate. A slow smile slowly spread onto her face. Subconsciously his fingernails dug into his palms, unable to see anything but the plain satisfaction. They both knew he was close to defeat.

"Kyle," as flexible as an elastic band, his attention snapped back to his mother, "I've just been told some horrible things. Things I never wanted to hear, never wanted to believe." He couldn't speak, mutely staring at her harsh glare. "I have a camera in my hand. Do you know what the photos on it are?"

He flinched when she passed it to him. Dread sat heavily in his stomach like a stone, churning the contents as he pressed the 'next' button. Spots of light filtered through a canvas of green and browns, all shades of colour that made up the background. From the trees to the dirt, and finally, to _them_. It was like a guilty scrapbook, a memento of the emotions felt there. They rose up within him again, remembering the fear in Eric's face. A painful squeeze came from his chest, and he wanted nothing more than to leave this house and go back to him.

 _Of course the last photo had to be us kissing_ , Kyle cringed at the sight of it.

"Mrs. Broflovski," hate made his eyes rise from the image, gaze burning as he watched Abigail try to bait his mother further. "I don't want to damage the bond between you two, but I just felt that I had to step in." She offered him a sympathetic smile, "It didn't seem right for something like this to continue on..."

He wanted to kill her, in every way possible. At one point he loved those eyes for being so expressive, and now, they were just a dagger in his heart.

"Abigail, I can't thank you enough for bringing this to my attention. But I really have to discuss this alone with Kyle."

She floundered for a moment, blinking in utter surprise. "A-are you sure?"

"Yes." Sheila stood up, leading the young girl from the room and out the door. Thanking her once again before she shut it.

Being just as confused as Abigail had been, he tensed as she returned, wondering what she could possibly be thinking. She calmly sat next to him.

The only thing she had to say was his name again, "Kyle", and he broke down. Cried even when he felt his mother placed a hand on his back, rubbing it in gentle circles. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked, tone so hurt that it made him cry harder. "Bubby please, _talk to me_."

"I...I didn't..." _I was angry, confused, ashamed, shocked, scared, disgusting…_

Even if he couldn't say the words, it seemed like she knew. She gathered him up in a hug, warming him with all the love she could convey in a simple gesture, and spoke until he was ready.

"Listen to me. You are my son, I would love you in whatever form you take, I would love you and whatever life you make for yourself. And that goes for who you choose to share that life with. I'm not mad at that, Kyle, never that." She sighed, squeezing him closer, "I'm mad because you didn't tell me, that you dealt with all of these confusing thoughts and emotions by yourself. I'm mad..." Sheila broke off, "I'm mad at myself for not being approachable to you when you needed it."

"B-but what about Abigail, I thought..."

Sheila glanced down at him, "What, you thought I was going to complain that you weren't dating?"

 _I thought you were going to kick me out; hate me_... With one look he knew she read his mind a second time.

"Oh, Bubby." Kyle was held tightly, enough that he could hear his mother's heart. Its beat was constantly bold, reminding him of his childhood, and when she'd draw him close after a nightmare. Taking comfort from the familiarity, he breathed in, smelling the same individualistic perfume that always seemed to waft from his mother. Lavender and the ever so faint accents of kasha. It was an odd combination, but it was home.

It was a while later before either could speak, and surprisingly to both parties, it was Kyle who spoke first. "So I'm not in trouble, right?" There was a pause, "Mom?"

"There..." He pulled away from her, "Look, Kyle. I don't want you seeing that boy again."

"What!? Why? I thought you didn't have any issue with me being gay!?"

"That's not the problem..."

"Then what is?!"

"Abigail," _What did she say about Eric?_ "told me how she'd been tormented."

"What?" There was literally nothing else he could say, he was dumbfounded. He gave his arm another pinch.

"You can't honestly believe that." _Can you...?_

She looked older than her age than, tired as she said, "I don't know. But until then, I don't want you getting hurt."

"Mom! Please, I can't just leave him!"

"If he really cares for you, he'll understand."

* * *

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I!"

"This is unbelievable, what a bitch."

Kyle stared at his ceiling, phone held against his ear as he lay on his bed; his charger had mysteriously been found, but that was the farthest from his current thoughts. He was trying hard not to cry. "I know, what do I do?"

Stan shrugged, staring at his own ceiling, "Have you told Eric?"

Wincing at the thought, Kyle covered his eyes with an arm. "No" he admitted, "I'm afraid of what he'll do."

"Probably do something stupid, like throw a brick through her bedroom window." Kyle laughed in response, exhausted and bitter. "Kyle?"

"Hm?"

There was a pause where Stan tried the find the words to explain how he felt, "I want you to know that despite anything that may happen, I'm here for you."

The silence lengthened. Stan's ears strained to hear anything, until a soft sigh came from the other end.

"You don't know how much I needed to hear that."

"Dude, what did you think was going to happen? You're my best friend."

"Trust me, I know... I just thought with Eric, you'd be...upset?"

Stan groaned, scrubbing the side of his face, "I was."

Kyle sat up, frowning at the wall across from him, "But?"

"I saw the way he looks at you."

"Oh…"

"Yeah…"

They lapsed into awkward silence again, with both failing to ignore how hot their respective faces felt.

* * *

The sound greatly annoyed her. Footsteps echoing from the floor above, drowning out any feasible thinking. Liane Cartman shook her head, hand stilling as it clutched a sponge. He'd been pacing non-stop now, as if he was waiting for something. She had tried talking to him, but nothing seemed to work. He just shut her out, like always.

She frowned at the murky water in the sink, wishing she knew how to help.

Sighing, she left it be, she'd probably make it worse anyways. Oblivious to the amount of comfort her son truly needed.

* * *

As soon as Stan hung up the phone with Kyle, he was dialing another. It took a few seconds, but promptly he heard a muffled voice come through.

"Dude, did you hear what happened?"

"No...? What's going on?"

"Okay, get this-"

* * *

"Really?!"

Kenny removed his ear from the receiver, wincing, "Do you mind toning it down a bit?"

"Sorry" Butter mumbled.

"It's okay, but yeah, that's what Stan told me."

"Oh no, what are we going to do?"

Kenny shrugged, leaning against a living room wall, joined by the landline phone resting on a end table. "I don't know if we can do anything more than lend a shoulder. I'm pretty sure we're not even supposed to know."

"Golly! That's a really pickle. How is Cartman taking it?"

"Oh shit, I don't even think he knows."

* * *

The world was tinged by the dizzy effect, but he couldn't help it. His footsteps were loud against the floor, caused by his relentless pacing. With every movement he wondered what he had done, why wasn't Kyle back yet?

_Maybe he just doesn't want to see you…_

"Of course not, Kahl wanted to see me."

_Are you sure?_

"Yes" he said to himself, then a lot more quieter and uncertain whispered, "Yes?"

_Then what's taking so long? Maybe it's an excuse to not see you._

Roughly Eric sifted his hands through his hair, tempted to just stomp his way over to the Jew's house. But doubt ensnared him, and a part of him wondered, what if it was true? That Kyle didn't actually want to be in a relationship with him? Who honestly would?

It was heart-wrenching; he willed himself not to allow those bitter thorns to dig in, if so, you could lose yourself in self-hate. Pushing down his panic, he grabbed his cell from his pillow and called one of his favourite contacts.

"Gah! H-hello!?"

"It's, uh, me. Can we talk? I'm having trouble processing things...a-and, I-"

"Shit, okay. B-breathe. I'll be there soon."

"T-thanks, I'm..." Unceremoniously he plopped himself onto his bed, evening his breathing with difficulty.

* * *

From his window he stared, watching outside with such dull conviction. Then he saw someone familiar, hurriedly walking down the sidewalk, only to cross the road and head towards Eric's house. He perked up, stomach twisting in knots as he realized who it was. Tweek.

Eric had reassured him that nothing was going on between the pair, that the mere thought was laughable. Still, Kyle felt lightheaded, and jealousy came back in full swing. He should be the one over there, and yet, he was offhandedly glad that he wasn't. A part of him was fearful of what would happen when he told Eric, especially if he ever found out about when Abigail forced herself onto him. He could do without that. Still, it would have been nice if it was someone like Butters instead.

Feeling that this was the nudge he needed, he climbed up from his chair, pushing himself away from the desk and headed out.

The creaking floorboards were all considered a threat, one he patiently tried to walk around as he went downstairs. Kyle could hear his mother in the kitchen, radio turned on as she sung along. Thankful he had at least the shrill warble of her voice to mask the sound of his escape, which allowed him to descend with relative ease. Feet stepping onto the main level, he paused, tightly gripping the banister until he was certain his mother was distracted. Quickly Kyle crossed the hallway to the front door, bending over to slip his shoes on before he unlocked it.

_CLICK_

His heartbeat was a constant companion, thundering loudly as he glanced back. She didn't seem to hear it, good.

With a fast twist the door was opened, and with it, Kyle rejoiced as he took that first step. He felt slightly guilty about his mother, gently shutting the door behind him, but the thought of Tweek and Eric together...

 _I should be able to trust him_ , he thought, conflicted. The trip next door had his heart leaden. While on Eric's porch, he remembered what the other boy had told him: _You saw what you wanted to see, trust me, I have no interest in being a homewrecker..._

His hand hovered on the door knob, wondering if he should go through with this. That's when what Eric had also said, surfaced to mingle with his worry.

 _I mean I'm not the best with sharing my problems, but I think you need to know. The reason why Tweek and I are so close, is because he found me_ \- Kyle turned the knob, and entered.

This was it, no more secrets, for the both of them. They were going to tell each other everything. And finally Kyle was going to understand Tweek's relationship with his...with Eric, his eyes narrowed.


	16. The Final Act

The curtain is upon us, the final act in this play. Legs are aching from sitting in the same position for so long, and your bladder is begging for mercy. You're fairly certain that if you don't go to the bathroom soon, you're going to piss yourself. Of course, that's not ideal, but neither is leaving the show. Emotions are rung high, as the earth-shattering battle is about to commence. You can't miss it, not now…

He pressed on, mouth dry while his hands were wet with sweat. Anxiously he wiped his palms against his jeans, hoping the clamminess would go away. The fear was palpable, enough that Kyle felt that he'd choke on it. He swallowed once out of reflex, and another time for luck.

Shutting the door softly behind him, he made his way upstairs. He wasn't an idiot, he knew that's where they'd be. Doing what exactly, he hadn't the faintest clue. And he didn't care the reason, just so long as it didn't match his fears. That when he peered into that bedroom, he'd find them… Fuck, he couldn't finish the thought, he was trembling already.

Refusing to acknowledge the scurrying memory of the two boys in that cafe, Kyle crept up the stairs and as quietly as possible, walked up to Eric's room. The door wasn't closed fully, letting a crack of the darkened hallway spill shadows inside. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, painfully loud as he put his hand on the door. With the barest of pressure, he leaned against it.

"I-it's okay, Eric." Kyle tilted his head to the side, sucking in his breath. "I'm su-sure there's nothing, ugh, to be worried about!"

There was a mumbled response, in vain Kyle tried to decipher it. He failed.

"N-noo, he doesn't." Without a doubt that was Tweek again, "You can't know that. L-look, you know I'm here for you…" Eric whispered something back "... Not everyone is going to like you, and it's not, urk, you're fault!" Frustrated with this one sided conversation, lightly Kyle increased the pressure, allowing the door to fall open.

His heart came to a shuddering stop. They were both sitting on the bed, with Eric heavily leaning against Tweek, head held between his hands. Comfortingly his back was being rubbed in gentle circles by the other teen. He knew with all of his heart that he shouldn't be upset, Tweek wasn't the type of boy to back-stab anyone. Still, he couldn't avoid the jealousy that slithered into his chest.

Both Tweek and Eric flinched when he cleared his throat, eyes widening in sudden shock. He took a step into the room, taking a calming breath. "What's going on here?"

They both paused, glancing at one another, unsure what to do. Kyle's eyes narrowed.

"T-Tweek," Eric broke off, embarrassed when his voice cracked, "we're talking-"

"I can see that, about what?" He shut the door behind him, subconsciously glaring in the blonde's direction.

Eric was eyeing the thread count of the carpet when he felt the nudge. Rising his gaze to the side, they exchanged a wordless conversation.

_This is your chance._

He shook his head, _I'm not ready._

_You can do it, I believe in you_. Tweek grabbed his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.

Cursing under his breath, Eric switched his focus to Kyle's shoes, rushing everything out before he changed his mind. "TweekwashelpingmebecauseIwashavingaananxietyattack."

"...What..?"

**Fuck**. Eric breathed in, and attempted to say it again. "Tweek was helping me because I, uh, was having an anxiety attack..."

A second passed, with Kyle blankly staring at him. In that moment of silence Eric wanted to be dead.

" _Oh_ …"

"...Yeah..."

"Why... Why were you having an anxiety attack...?"

**Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shi** -

Tweek cleared his throat, "Maybe I sh-should let you guys talk alone, o-okay?"

"I-" The grip on his shoulder twitched, "fine" he whispered.

Releasing his hold, Tweek hurriedly escaped the confines of the room, nerves causing him to shut the door a little harder than necessary. As soon as he stepped into the hallway, he fumbled for the cell vibrating in his pocket. He half expected it to be Eric, begging him to come back, but it wasn't. It was his...well, it was complicated, but the message was from Craig. He frowned at the text.

**where are you?**

Chewing on his bottom lip, he shot a glance back at the door before responding.

**cartmans**

Tweek wasn't a genius, but it was obvious to him that Craig was jealous. He wasn't entirely sure _why_ , but that didn't matter much. What did matter was how nosy Craig had been getting, wanting to know why he had special interest in the brunette.

It wasn't like he could actually tell him, not about the things they'd bonded over. Still, he knew his recent secretive attitude was getting to his boyfriend.

**WHY?**

Exhale whistling from his mouth, he lowered his thumbs to the keyboard, when the volume of the boys in the room behind him rose. Despite not wanting to eavesdrop, if he needed to know Eric would tell him, he found himself listening in.

* * *

It was awkward when Tweek was in the room with them, but as soon as he left, the feeling doubled. Neither wanted to be the first to talk, that much was obvious.

"Sooo…" Cartman started, hoping to advert his...his _boyfriend's_ -God he'd need to get used to that- attention to literally anything else. "How did things go with your mom?"

Eric's brow furrowed when the other boy tensed, "...Kahl?"

" _Fine_." It was odd, he wasn't look him in the eye. Worry swarming him, Eric felt dread seizing his senses. "Look, can you answer the question?"

"The qu-"

"Why," Kyle took a step forward, gaze snapping back to search the other's facial expression, "were you having an anxiety attack? Do you need to go to the hospital or something?"

" _What?_ No, I'm… I'm better, Tweek and I talked. Everything's good now." He must have said the wrong thing, Kyle's nose scrunched up. Trying to backpedal, words spilled forth from his mouth in a frenzy, "I mean, 'cause usually he's the first person I go…" Shit, Kyle was glaring, "-Not that I wouldn't go to you, I just… Tweek knows things..."

"...What 'things'?"

**Fuck**. He hadn't meant to say that.

"I mean, like... _shit..._ " _C'mon you're Eric fucking Cartman, you shouldn't be afraid of anything_. Then why was he sweating like he just ran through the Sahara desert? Why was his hands trembling with such fear?

Why? Because he was terrified of what would happen if he told Kyle, if he'd look at him in disgust, as before. For once in his life he had a taste of peace, he was genuinely happy. The thought of losing that... and him...

Swallowing down his insecurities, he forced himself to overcome the unease. He patted the space beside him, waiting until the mattress dipped and everything went still and silent.

Blankly staring at the wall, he began to tell Kyle everything. "Do you remember when I tried to blackmail you into joining the track team with me?" He took the silence as a yes, "Well that was just a roundabout way for you to go running with me. I picked you because... you're so _determined_ , and I noticed how much you liked to run so... I thought it was the perfect fit..."

"But what brought this all on? Why now?"

He tried his hardest to ignore the staring, "Tweek kind of... he suggested exercising was better than what I was doing before."

"How else could you lose weight? You.. you weren't taking diet pills, were you?"

Eric loudly cleared his throat, "No, not that."

"Then what else is there...?"

* * *

"I mean, I feel so useless! We should be doing something!"

"Look, it's not like I enjoy being in this situation, but really, what can we do about it?"

"I don't know. Anything?"

Kenny sighed, leaning further back on the couch. Next to him, Butters was fidgeting, unable to rise his eyes from the floor. "Stan," he scrubbed the side of his face, "I don't know why I have to keep repeating myself, but we aren't exactly supposed to know about their... _relationship problems._ "

"And..?"

" _And,_ " Kenny emphasized, "when has either of them been fine with someone knowing one of their secrets?" Embarrassed, Stan and Butters shared a glance. They had to admit it, he was right.

"Okay you have a point, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I just feel awful." They lapsed into silence, each wordlessly brainstorming as they sat in Stan's living room.

Stan straightened, "Say that again, Butters?"

He wrung his hands together anxiously, "I said… w-why don't we just talk to Kyle's mom?" His face warmed as they mulled over the idea.

"That's not bad..."

"And it's not like sitting here and doing nothing is much help."

* * *

He didn't know what he expected when he woke up today, but it certainty wasn't this. Things were utterly confusing, it was all upside down and twisted beyond belief.

Kyle's mind was both fogged, and distorted. Almost as if the world was set on an weird angle, tilting barely enough that you couldn't help but notice. Meanwhile his eyes were locked on Eric's face, unwavering.

His boyfriend's words were still lurking within his head, sluggishly replaying what had been spat out a minute before. They were mumbled with ashamed conviction, but Eric still managed to retell him the state Tweek had found him in. And everything after that, the stifled suffering. As with the purging of his stomach on an almost constant basis, and the soreness of his throat afterwards.

Heartbeat thundering in his ears, he mutely watched as Cartman continued talking. He couldn't hear anything other than the roar, but thankfully Eric eventually took notice, fumbling for a second before his mouth closed shut. They found themselves staring at one another, unable to look away.

"How..." Kyle started with a frown, his tongue felt dulled by a layer of cotton. "...How long has this been going on for?"

"Um..." Eric quickly glanced to the side, subconsciously pouting, "A while..."

"I..."... _I don't even know what to say, what can you say to that?_ "I'm..." _I'm so sorry._

A warm hand grasped his, giving a short but tight squeeze as he tried to hold on, still reeling from the revelation.

"It's alright, Kahl."

"No, it really isn't."

What hurt the most was Kyle's understanding of the look that was being shot in his direction, a bleak colouring of the eyes, something that said: _I deserved this._

No, no one does. And despite how much he wanted to share this with Eric, he couldn't. All he saw was the image of the boy he loved, bent over a toilet as his body shook, finger down his own throat. The cringe he offered in exchange for this secret was inadvertent, and most certainly awful. Eric pulled his hand away, and immediately Kyle regretted it.

"So," He began shakily, "now you know everything. I think it's fair if I ask you a couple of questions."

"That seems reasonable...can I just ask you one more question?"

Eric groaned loudly, sifting a hand through his hair, "Leave it to a Jew to be greedy. Yeah sure, why not." Kyle choose to ignore that comment.

_God, how do you even ask?_ "You're not still... you know?"

Blinking for a second, Eric's brow remained furrowed as Kyle tried to convey what he meant through a series of flighty gestures. Eyes widening suddenly, his mouth opened up in a little 'o'. He didn't understand why he felt so embarrassed over this, the back of his neck warming profusely, but he did.

"No, I'm good. I'm not... yeahh..."

"Oh..that's...good..."

"Is that everything?"

"Yes, I just." The weight on his shoulders vanishing in a large swoop had a relieved exhale escaping his lips, "Good, that's good" Kyle mumbled to himself.

"Finally! Okay, back to my original question. Your mom called you, right?" Eric waited for the teen beside him to nod before he continued, "What was that all about? And why did it take you so long to get back?"

The weight returned in full force, causing his shoulders to bunch as he frantically tried to think of something to say. Anything really. That tilt turned into Kyle slipping down a sheet of ice, fingers trying to grab a hold of anything as he rapidly approached a chasm that held icy water and his death.

"Uhhhh."

* * *

Since Stan lived so close to Kyle, it didn't take long for their little party to venture over to the Broflovski house. The whole plan posed a number of problems, one being that Kyle couldn't know that they paid his mom a visit, lest he finds out their whole group knew about his relationship with the resident racist.

And no one wanted to face an angry Kyle, much less his mother. But hey, you do crazy shit for your friends. Which is why they were in their current predicament.

"Go ahead."

"No way, you do it." Stan hissed back. Their trio stood awkwardly on the front porch, whispering amongst themselves to get someone to knock.

"Oh for heaven's snakes!" Butters impatiently sighed, pushing his way to the front, "I'll do it if you two are so lily-livered!" Stronger than the others expected, he rapped his knuckles firmly and quickly on the door. At the jarring sound of it, they automatically took a step back.

"Just a moment!" They all looked at one another; was this really a smart idea?

Well they didn't have a chance to back out, the door was already being flung open.

"Oh look who it is, Kyle's little friends." Sheila smiled at them, absently wiping her hands on a cloth as the crooning sound of music from a radio greeted them. "Bubby is upstairs if you want to talk to him." She turned her head to the side, getting ready to call out to her son-

"Actually!" Kenny quickly interrupted, smiling sheepishly, "We were wondering if we could talk to you, Mrs. Broflovski."

"To me?" She frowned as they all nodded their heads, "Er, well if you want to. Then please, come in." The door was held open wider, and she took a step to the side. There was no going back.


	17. Curtain Call

His grip tightened around his cell, anger blossoming until it overcame the involuntary tremble of his nerves. He broke free from his spot, unknowingly stomping his feet as he left the hallway and made his way downstairs, anger searing both his mind and body.

It was hard to focus on anything but that emotion, even the clatter of confused steps was ignored, and so were the calling of his name - frantic and worried. Maybe if he took the time to listen he would’ve cared, but he didn’t.

In his mind’s eye all he could see was Eric bent over that toilet bowl, the endless conversations. _He’d_ been the one to see everything, the crying and screaming fits. The thought that anyone had the audacity to...to… _encourage_ that…

Tweek shuddered at the thought, fingers being yanked on like taut violin strings. He was breathless as he stepped outside, gasps echoing the sound of his shoes as he stalked down the sidewalk.

“Hello?”

He hadn’t even realized he’d dialed his number until the comforting rise of Craig’s voice whispered into his ear, “I-I… Wh-where are you?”

“I’m hanging out with Token and Clyde, why?”

The reasoning he offered was half-assed, laughably so, but Tweek appreciated the immediate acceptance of it. It was nice to know that there was someone out there, willing to support his own flaws, and to soothe his apprehension.

He spent the next ten minutes following his boyfriend’s instructions, directed simply over to Clyde’s house.

* * *

Solipsism, the philosophical theory that claims that nothing exists but the individual’s consciousness. Relatively speaking, this is what their little trio was experiencing. Beyond the living room everything had come to a standstill, nothing appeared to exist but their conversation. Or at least what they were attempting to say.

Progress was at a snail’s pace, barely slinking along on the path of time.

Sheila set a plate of cookies onto the coffee table, playing the role of a hostess well.  It was as she was raised, face fixed into a friendly smile even though she had a sink full of dishes that had to be done.

The three young men before her were huddled together, all bursting with awkward adolescent energy. Keeping this in mind, she sat across from them “Now, what did you want to talk about?” Her eyes carefully skimming, waiting patiently for someone to take the lead and speak first.

Her eyes eventually landed on Kenny, watching as he tried to find the best phrasing available; “we’re here to talk about Cartman and Kyle.”

And just like that everything went downhill, emotions were locked away in a stony glare. The cold reality of such seeped into the room, pinning the three boys like butterflies onto a board.

“Is that so...?”

Icy sweat collecting on the back of his neck, Butters gulped, remembering all the times where he had been fearful of Kyle’s mom.

“Look,” Kenny contended, breaching the gaping silence with his own indifference. He came here for the happiness of two dear friends, he wouldn’t let anything get in the way. “Eric really cares about Kyle, I don’t think it’s fair that you’d want to keep them apart.”

Sheila shifted in her spot, leaning back with a righteous expression that said: _I’m an adult and I know what’s best_. “And how exactly would you know about that?” Their hesitation was all the answer she needed, head turning so she could stare at the staircase, she shouted “Kyle!?”

Within the dip Stan’s posture rightened, “Mrs. Broflovski, Kyle doesn’t know we’re here.” That got her attention, “And that’s probably for the best… I’m one of your son’s best friends, which is why I’m ashamed of how I first reacted to his relationship with Cartman. I’ve tried my hardest to make up for that…” Stan’s brow furrowed, “but what he must have felt because of you, must have been ten times worse.”

* * *

 It was like watching a volcano on the verge of erupting, one couldn’t help but be in awe of the spectacle unfolding - how there was majestic beauty in destruction. Rivaling this heat, Kyle stood _frozen_.  

“A-are you serious?!” Eric’s voice rose, cracking with fathomless rage. It was another thing to be thwarted by his douche-bag for friends, but to have some fucking stranger mess with his life? No fucking way was he going to be cool with that.

“Eric” he turned around, a hand moving from his shoulder to cup the side of his face.  Closer than he expected, Kyle was staring into his eyes, putting a lid on his indignation - simpering it. Heavily breathing through his nose, Eric counted to ten.

...six...seven...eight...nine... **ten**..

“I’m okay,” he mumbled, almost as if to convince himself; eyes fluttering shut as kisses were pressed against his cheeks.

Kyle inched back, smiling tiredly, “Better?”

“Better” he reluctantly admitted, the corners of his lips tugging. “Just to be clear…” Kyle rose a brow, “you _don’t_ want me to…”

“God no, Eric. I can handle things on my own.”

Eric desperately fought back the snide comment of, ‘are you sure about that?’ or ‘look where that’s gotten us’.  
As if sensing where his thoughts had went, Kyle rolled his eyes. “C’mon, we don’t need another Scott Tenorman incident, alright?”

"I don't like this"

"I know," Kyle grasped his hands, holding them to his chest. "Which is why I'm so proud you're here - instead of bashing some stupid girl's skull in."

Oh the desire was still there, just below the surface... but if it made Kyle happier if he stayed put; Eric sighed. A lightning bolt of an idea struck him, blinding in an instant. "I..." he moved closer, unable to help his smirk, "I may need more of an incentive to stay _distracted_..."

"Are" Kyle started to laugh, "are you serious?"

Eric begun to climb up, "Or I could always find what's-her-face's house and- Oof!" Grunting painfully as an elbow dug just below his ribs, the insistence having him sucking up all the oxygen in the room. "I was kidding! Kidding!"

Kyle snorted, "I thought so."

"Why Kahl, are you always so mean?" Eric whined, gracing an exaggerated pout that had the boy beside him tensing. Before his ear had the chance to be talked ~~nagged~~ off, Eric was shoving his boyfriend over onto the bed. Seizing the sudden commotion to hurriedly pepper kisses along the Jew's slender and tan neck, Eric was determinedly resistant against the hand pulling at his hair. 

Staring at the faded glow-in-the-dark star stickers plastered onto the ceiling, Kyle felt his face starting to warm the longer time went on. His hand, the one not latched onto chestnut locks, uselessly clenched around the blanket. Ablaze, the world vanished as he closed his eyes - screwing them shut at the nipping sensation that trailed lightly over his Adams apple and to the curve of his collar bone.

* * *

"Sup?" Clyde greeted from the floor, lazily lounging as he tried to get some chips from a bowl into his mouth. Of course, without using his hands. He had a bet going on with Token, who was recording the whole debacle. Basically a typical night for their little group.

"H-hi" Tweek greeted, waving at Token. "Wher-where's uh, Craig?"

Token leaned slightly back, showing the top of a blue hat peering from beyond the bed's side.  Walking around, Tweek found his boyfriend sitting on the ground with a laptop balanced on his thighs, earbuds in as he watched some strange video. Studying it for a second, he noticed the recurring theme of flashing lights and guinea pigs moving around models of miniature cities, like fluffy monsters. 

Shaking his head, he tapped a finger on one of the bunched shoulders; scaring both of them as Craig flinched. The annoyance that turned to face him paused, morphing into a small smile when he realized it wasn't Clyde. He pulled an earbud out, "Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Ark! G-good" Tweek mumbled.

"Wait," they both glanced over their shoulders, "are you sick Tweek?" Clyde climbed up until he was sitting on his folded knees, "Because my dad is going to be pissed if someone vomits on the carpet again."

At the shared memory everyone cringed.

"N-no it's not that" _thank God..._ "I was just mad at this girl called Abigail."

Craig frowned, "Who?"

"Uh," Tweek searched for the surname he'd heard rushed out in tightly drawn sentences, "Cullen?" Somehow that didn't seem right.

"I don't know about a Cullen, but I've met an Abigail Cohen."

"Y-yeah, I think.. tha-that's it! How," Tweek's brows knitted together, "how do you know about her?"

Everyone turned to stare at Token, who merely shrugged. "My mom has this old university friend that's a famous artist, he dabbles in 'symbolic sculptures'. We get these _things_ every Christmas, until they took up too much space - we started giving them away."

"Wow, that's kind of an asshole move" Clyde chimed in.

"C'mon, if you saw half the stuff you'd get rid of it too. Anyway, we ended up giving some to this Cohen family. I guess they liked it, because we were invited to their New Years party."

"And Abigail was there?"

"Yeah, I got stuck beside her the whole night. Remember Clyde? I stole some lobsters for you?"

"How could I forget" Clyde moaned, salivating at the thought. Tweek perked up, trying to appear casual as he asked "T-Token, you wouldn't happen to, ark! Remember where she li-lives?" 

Concerned Craig stared at him, hand clasping his shoulder in a way that meant, _what could you possibly be thinking?_

He honestly didn't-

* * *

 know how he got in this position, gasping against a pillow. The cotton textile of which was currently damp from the constant plumes of hot air.  If you asked Kyle a week earlier about dry humping Eric Cartman, he'd question your sanity. Maybe punch your lights out, but never agree. 

Which is why his current predicament came to such a surprise. The alien warmth of a hand crawling up his shirt, smoothing the skin of his belly with feather-like touches. Kyle shivered, biting harshly on his bottom lip to prevent from moaning aloud.

Lifting his head up, he watched as Eric eased downwards, using Kyle's exposed stomach as a canvas for his tongue. Bunching the fabric of the shirt upwards, he suckled on the spot just above Kyle's belly button, turning the flesh a rosy pink.

Kyle jolted in shock, eyes blown wide open at a finger trailing across the slight tent of his jeans.

Being the teen that he was, Kyle recognized that he had no sex appeal, or at least that's the conclusion he'd come to over the years. It was hard enough dealing with your own sexuality, but to have someone interested... Okay, admittedly he'd heard the occasional comment about his ass, but that never equated to him being asked out. Meaning he was grasping at straws when it came to experience with sex.

A shiver tore through his body, the sensation of his now straining erection being groped through his pants evoking such embarrassing sounds from him. He was so clueless at to what to do, he just _laid_ there. Panting at the mixed heat of the hefty form baring down on him, and his own bashfulness. 

Without his consent his hips twitched, thrusting weakly at the presence of Eric. A sigh of relief escaped his lips in a gust, thankful when Eric was thoughtful to unbutton and unzip his jeans - allowing at least _some_ additional space.

"Shit" he cursed, mouth falling open at lips encircling one of his hipbones with a playful nibble.

There was a pause, long enough that Kyle weakly peered downwards. Almost as flushed as Kyle was, Eric was gulping as he stared at the revealed pair of boxers. His hands were sweating profusely with nervousness, he'd been bull-shitting the whole time, but now... He had to commit, and at least make it seem like he knew what he was doing. It was terrifying.

"Eric" he glanced up. Kyle was smiling awkwardly, "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

The grip on Kyle's jeans tightened, "Trust me. I  _want_ this, I just..." his gaze moved to the side.

"It's okay, I understand. We just started dating, it's fine if we take things slow." Eric's brow furrowed, "Eric..." he finally locked eyes with his boyfriend, "I don't want to do anything until we're _both_ ready. Okay?"

He nodded, climbing his way up to Kyle's awaiting mouth when he said, "C'mon here." Pulled into a soft kiss, Kyle tilted his head to whisper, "I'm not going anywhere." In the same breath he added, "But I need to get up." Eric rose a brow. "I, uh, need to take care of a _problem_."

"Oh..."

"Yeah.."

Silently Eric rolled off of him, moving to the side to watch as Kyle slid from the bed and tensely shuffled towards the door. Quickly unlocking it to peer outside, he briefly checked to make sure he was in the clear before he darted towards the bathroom. 

Eric sighed, tossing an arm over his eyes to smother the light. Waiting for a few seconds, unease reared its ugly head. Mischievous, it had him lifting his arm and listening for any sounds in the hallway before he got out of bed. It was the force behind him creeping out of the room and down the hall, eventually sneaking his way to the front door, and heading outside. The perfect veil to venture to the neighbouring house.

 _Five minutes later_  

Kyle was washing his hands in the sink, a tad out of breath when he dried them off on a towel before going out once again. His skin felt too tight for his body, but he figured he'd get used to that. Lightly pushing the door open, Kyle rose his eyes from the floor, "So I was thinking w--" Nothing. "Eric?" he called out, surveying the empty bedroom. God, something wasn't right here.

_BbTttzzz_

His shoes mutely made their way to his fallen cell, picking it up, he read the new message scrolling across his screen. Goosebumps broke out on his skin, clinging as he raced out of the room. Faster than anytime he'd run alone on some trail, he bound down the stairs and darted to the front door - yanking it back until it rattled against the wall. From somewhere in the house he could hear Cartman's mom give a sound of surprise, but it was a mere inconvenience in the past.

Already his shoes were sleek with the dew from the grass, causing a newfound level of slipperiness. He tripped on the way to his home's porch, banging his knee off of the recently painted planks of wood. Hissing lowly in pain, Kyle forced himself to move on, well aware that the scrape had beads of blood rising. A little patch on the dead centre of his kneecap was spun from dark blue to plain black. The sting caused a small limp as he burst inside, intruding like a violent storm.

* * *

Stan uselessly held onto his phone, brought close to his chest in a form of protection. Like mannequins everyone stood, Sheila bewildered as she stood in front of her seat, locked onto the teen standing defiantly before her.

Kyle had run before his thoughts could meet up with him, a reason behind the delay in seconds it took for words to form. Burying daggers into the back of his boyfriend, he was just about to hurdle a million and one things at Eric, which is when he had finally digested what the other teen was saying. In a flash of horror and outrage all of his knowledge on communication was wiped away in a massive tidal wave.

"-I hope you're happy, you've raised a son that's greatest pleasure is to make everyone around him feel like shit. He protests all of the injustice in the world, usually when it suits his own gain or to jerk off his ego. I don't know how he does it, but his bitching surpasses yours. And I thought that was impossible... He loves to make my life harder than necessary, and despite all that, I fucking love your piece of shit demon-spawn. Now I don't even care about your opinion, but for some reason _he_ does - and even though it's below me, I'll beg just to be near him." Grunting, Eric knelt on the ground. "So tell me Jewess, what do I have to do? I'll stop eating pork and crab, I'll do it. Just tell me..."

Floundered, especially at the offensive nonsense floating in the air, Kyle took a step forward. He didn't get farther then that, he froze when his mother started moving. First she glanced behind her, shooting his friends a look that had them jumping to their feet. Hurrying out of the house like they were on fire, they only lingered long enough to mumble supportive encouragement as they brushed past.

She approached Kyle's dip-shit of a boyfriend, hunching to whisper something to Eric. Well, she wasn't throwing him out of the window, that was always good. Maybe she was saving it for him... Straightening with an irritation that was clearly held back, she finally approached.

The grip placed on his shoulder felt a million tons heavy, on the verge of sinking Kyle through the floorboards and to the core of the Earth. "I have no proof of what Abigail said, so I have no right to keep you from... _him_. But no matter what, it's important that you know that I support you." She gave him a quick hug, one he'd always cherish. Sheila went upstairs, giving them privacy to talk amongst themselves.

Dusting his pants off, Eric rose to his feet, "I think that went better th--" A curse gushed forth, inescapable as Eric held onto his head, "Ow, what the fuck, Kahl!?" He flinched when the muscle in Kyle's left cheek twitched, arm still raised to hit him again.

"Are you kidding me!?"

" _What?"_

Kyle's hand trembled, so fucking tempted to smack the brunette around until he got some actual sense in that thick skull of his. "You're seriously questioning why I'm mad right now? After all _that?!"_

In a move of pure and blind luck, Eric caught the offending appendage before it struck him again. "It worked didn't it?"

"And what if it didn't?" He stressed.

"Please, love conquers all." Eric turned that grasping into a determined hand holding.

"I'm so done with you."

"Kahl, you can't pretend to not be a _little_ bit impressed with that."

"How can I be impressed with idiocy? And what was with that speech of yours? I'm a 'demon-spawn' now?"

"I also said I loved you in front of our friends." At the silence, Eric rolled his eyes. "I can't believe that's the part you forgot."

"...I didn't forget that part..."

Blinking at the uncharacteristically small voice coming from his boyfriend, Eric was unable to help himself any longer. Snatching him up in a hug, he put all of his strength behind it as they stood there.

"You're such an idiot."

"I love you too, Kahl."

* * *

"Are you sure about this?"

Tweek nodded, locked in a staring contest with the door before him. Craig sighed, using the brass knocker. He convinced the spastic blonde to let him come along, nervous at the prospect of him doing any of this alone. He hoped Token got the address right.

With baited breath they waited, counting the seconds. Twenty heartbeats in, Tweek turned to him, obviously wanting to bail. But they never got the chance, both befuddled when an audible click was heard.

"Can I help you?"

Just as equally confused, a girl roughly the same age was standing in the doorway. Craig cleared his throat, "Abigail?"

"Yes?"

He glanced to Tweek. There was no way he was going to speak anytime soon, he looked like a deer caught in headlights "We're kind of friends with Cartman-"

" _Who?"_

"Um, fat kid? He's boning this other guy, Kyle Broflovski. Obnoxious nerd?" Craig thought he saw something flash in Abigail's eyes, but it could have easily have been light - he didn't really care about this whole drama, only that Tweek was okay.

Abigail leaned to the side, slowly shutting the door. "Sorry, I haven't heard of them."

Just as Craig was about to call bullshit, everything went crazy when she keeled over, clutching her nose. Screeching like a _**fucking**_ pterodactyl in his ear, Tweek was pulling him down the street. Babbling in gibberish, he high-tailed it out of there, dragging Craig until his limbs were exhausted. Stopping to hide behind a pine tree, Tweek collapsed onto the ground, hugging the rough bark as if to make him invisible.

Collecting his wits, Craig slowly closed his mouth. "Dude... you just _punched_ someone."

"O-ooh fuck! Oh f-ark-uck! What am I..am I going to d-do?"

"Dude..." Craig said loudly, as if he just came to some startling new conclusion. Dropping to his knees in front of the panicking blonde, Craig gripped either side of those trembling shoulders. "You just punched her, out of nowhere."

Wiping his running nose on his sleeve, Tweek peered upwards. "C-Craig?" The grip on his shoulders tightened.

"Tweek," he blinked in surprise, watching the sudden flush of the other boy's cheeks, "You're _so_ cool!"

"I... what?"

"Just then, you were totally bad-ass. You were _cool."_

 "C-Craig, are you alright? Y-you didn't hit your head, did you?"

* * *

  _Three days later_

Eric dropped his cell back onto the grass, "Tweek."

Kyle yawned, moving his hair out of his eyes he said, "How's he doing?"

Eric paused, turning his head to the side. "As good as he can be while dating that stoic bastard, the guy apparently won't leave him alone. Wait, you're not upset that I'm texting Tweek?"

"I learned my lesson. Besides, you're not a homewrecker."

Smiling, Eric faced the sky again.

They were resting in that meadow, walled by a dense forest. The sun was unnaturally hot today, making the citizens of South Park lazy as they basked within its rays. At least that was Eric and Kyle's explanation, laying comfortably on a blanket of ashen grass. 

"There's something that's been bothering me..."

"Hm?"

Kyle frowned, staring at a cloud that looked like a frog tap dancing, "What did my mom say - in the living room?" Raising a brow at the wince that came from the boy beside him, he mutely watched as his boyfriend fumbled for a second.

"Remember when I said I'd do anything to be around you?"

"Yeah" Kyle smiled.

"You're mom just said 'make him happy'.."

"Aw"

"And she'd cut off my balls if I made you cry."

"Fuck, I'm sorry about that."

"Nah, it's okay. I'm used to it from your ass." The back of his shirt wet from the crushed grass, Eric climbed up to his feet. With a chest full of fresh air, he turned to his sprawled boyfriend. Kyle smiled at the offered hand, accepting it.

Standing on the top of the hill, they took a moment to appreciate the solitude. Eric couldn't help but have a dopey grin at the brilliance of it, how attractive the Jew beside him looked. Dressed for a run, his profile was highlighted in cyan blue and gold. The corners of his eyes crinkled in tiny laugh lines, causing Eric's heart to beat stupidly faster.

"Hey?" His attention snapped back "You okay?"

Studying Kyle's perturbed expression for a second, Eric smiled reassuringly, "I've never felt better."

"That's good," Kyle chuckled, nudging the brunette's side, "because we still have to run back."

Groaning loudly, Eric swooped down to pocket his cell before he followed Kyle down the hill. Cursing, he tried not to trip over his own feet. They still had a lot of issues to work through, his self-confidence and body image. And of course Kyle's shit parents and his anxiety over his sexuality, but whatever the problem, both knew that'd figure it out. Together.

"So, are you really giving up pork and crab?

"Let's not be rash here, Kahl.."

"Excuse me, but you made a big deal of sa--"

 

**Author's Note:**

> The oneshot that originated this small multi chapter story: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5051515


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